


My Nauglamir

by Jodlet



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Baby Legolas, F/M, Legolas is an imp, Love, Married Couple, Thranduil is a little clumsy but only when his wife is around, Thranduil's wife - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-25
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-13 18:37:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1236832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jodlet/pseuds/Jodlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil had met her before, before he had travelled over the Misty Mountains with his father and joined the Silvan Elves. The oldest daughter of a high elf lord, who was an adviser if he remembered correctly  to King Thingol, he'd stopped and stared when he'd first saw her. His father, Oropher, had laughed at him and given his shoulder a gentle shove – 'She would have you jump through hoops, my son.'<br/>And he had simply smiled and replied that he would jump through flaming hoops to see her eyes fall on him.</p><p>A story about Thranduil and his Wife. Because I'm sad there are very few stories about them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> So I am not an expert on Tolkien's books. I've done a lot of searches on LOTRWIKI to try and figure out dates and backgrounds to try and be as accurate as I could but I also took some of Peter Jackson's changes – such as Thranduil's facial injury and probably a bunch of other things. I did a little cross checking and it is entirely possible Thranduil could have been injured as there were dragons near him at some point. It's a work of fiction so do not take anything I say as fact. Also...The Nauglamír was the second-greatest treasure of Doriath, prized above all but Beren and Lúthien's Silmaril. After the smiths of Belegost finished their work on the Nauglamír, Thingol requested that the Dwarves of Nogrod set the Silmaril in it. The Nauglamír, now bearing the Silmaril was held to be the fairest object in Arda.
> 
> I will not be giving his wife a name, make your own. I will also be using little to no Elvish...because I'm choosing not to. There will be porn, so the rating may or may not change but I think an M is appropriate.  
> This is unbeta'd and I love comma's and these - things. Please enjoy it.

Thranduil had met her before, before he had travelled over the Misty Mountains with his father and joined the Silvan Elves. The oldest daughter of a high elf lord, who was an adviser if he remembered correctly to King Thingol, he'd stopped and stared when he'd first saw her. His father, Oropher, had laughed at him and given his shoulder a gentle shove – 'She would have you jump through hoops, my son.'  
And he had simply smiled and replied that he would jump through flaming hoops to see her eyes fall on him.

Not long after that incident her eyes had fallen on him – just as his wine had fallen upon her dress. There was a long moment where their eyes met, wide and horrified, Thranduil's mouth was ajar, his bottom lip faltering as he tried to force an apology out of his closed throat. He expected her to be angry or upset, he expected her father to come down and knock his teeth in but that didn't happen, she had done the last thing he'd expect and she'd laughed. 'Your face!' she tried to hide her smile behind her hand as she continued to laugh, 'You look like a scared deer.'

They'd crossed paths many times in Doriath and Thranduil never told her that she was more precious than the stars to him. Something he regretted when Doriath fell and he departed the only land he'd known.

It was almost an age, well into his life as a prince of the Greenwood, until he saw her again. Passing through the wood with a small entourage of guards, she glowed brighter than the Nauglamír and was twice as captivating to his eyes. He'd fallen out of the tree in his enamoured state and after she'd made sure he wasn't broken – she'd laughed at him again.  
The golden haired elleth had asked the Elven King Oropher to allow her to live within the Greenwood and he had welcomed her and the seven she travelled with to stay; including a rude little elfling that cried whenever he was near.

Still, Thranduil said nothing of his love for her. Instead he helped her learn the Silvan language, taught her of their odd celebrations and would often accompany her to the tops of the trees to gaze at the stars. She would stare up at the heavens, pale blue eyes glazed over as she smiled serenely in the glow. Thranduil would tilt his head to the side and watch her, every little twitch of her lips, every flutter of yellow eyelashes and every delighted gasp as a star fell was mesmerising to him.   
It seemed utterly unfair to him that he loved her, that she was his other half – he was certain of it – and she couldn't see him as more than a dear friend. 'Thranduil,' he startled at her voice but hid the flinch rather well, 'Would you teach me to wield a sword?'

'I thought your talent was with daggers...why do you wish this of me?' He was not offering her flattery, she was known to be the deadliest with knives in the entire woodland realm and he couldn't understand her interest in sword fighting.

She turned her head to face him and grinned, two little dimples making their appearance, 'I always thought swordplay looked so ugly but when I watch you practice - '

'You watch me?!' his dark eyebrows rose and he willed a delighted blush to stay hidden. She watched him, hidden from his view she would turn her gaze on him and he'd never known...would she watch him the same way she watched the stars?

She ignored his interruption and continued, 'You make it so graceful and beautiful. Smooth. As if you are wielding a feather and then you make an effortless arc to cut right through solid wood. Knives are dainty but what you can do with your sword is so powerful.' Thranduil's eyes glazed over slightly and his lips parted to suck in more of the crisp, night air. He must have looked as fevered as he felt because his beautiful Nauglamír was looking at him in confusion, the sweetest wrinkle between her eyes that he wanted to smooth out, 'Thranduil?' her hand rose to to touch his left cheek and the prince reared back violently.

The sudden jerk cause her to lose her footing on the branches below and fall forward, Thranduil found himself with an elleth against his chest, her fingers grasping the material of his tunic as she steadied herself. She looked up at him with a mixture of emotions, confusion, hurt, surprise and all he could do was look at her parted lips, pink and soft like rose petals. An age he had kept quiet of his love, holding it inside and now all he wanted to do was lean down and kiss her – perhaps this was the chance he'd always wanted, 'My Nauglamir.' the name came out as barely a breath but it seemed right, Thranduil leant forward to cover his lips with hers and found he had to abandon the movement to avoid her head hitting his nose.

'Did I insult you?' She asked as she righted herself on the branches, moving backwards to create a void between them, 'Of course I have. You have better things to do than indulge one of my dalliances.' She was suddenly cold to him and the prince felt his entire being spike with anguish as she motioned for them to leave the treetops.

'Wait!' He scrambled down after her, catching up on a thick branch that she now sat upon stiffly. He'd upset her, all she had wanted to do was touch him and he'd over reacted...or perhaps not. The enchantment that hid his scarred face was visually faultless, he'd never tried to touch it – terrified it would ruin the illusion and that everyone would see. When she had reached for him, he hadn't seen her hand at first, his blind eye oblivious and it wasn't until he caught the movement with his right eye that he moved away instinctively. An age of training and the battles that eventually led to Doriath's fall telling him to move before he was struck instead of accepting it as the kindness it was. 'Forgive me, I was distracted and thought you were a moth – I would indulge you even if it meant getting tree sap in my hair.' He offered his hand to her and she took it without hesitation, 'It would be my honour to teach you swordplay.'

-

He had kept his promise and every morning they would find a clearing and he would teach her, the same way Oropher had taught him, how best to take some ones head off with a sharp stick. She often made the mistake of getting to close, something natural to someone who used daggers but fatal for a sword user. Despite his love for her and perhaps because of it Thranduil was a merciless tutor and she would end up on the ground more times than either could count. It frustrated her and the complaints of tangled hair at then end of each lesson were constant. 'If we were still in Doriath you would be thrown in a cell for dumping me in the mud – probably executed for messing my hair!' She gave him a shove as they walked side by side.

Thranduil barely moved from the playful push, laughing at her pout he replied, 'War is not gentle or patient and it has no care what so ever for the hair on your head. I lost a great chunk of mine the first time I stood with a sword against my Father.'

'I should be grateful that you are my teacher then.' She was running her fingers through her hair, forcing them through the knotted ends, 'I sometimes forget you fought battles, there were so many after Thingol was slain and then the dragons...I very nearly sailed with everyone else but I was not ready to leave.'

The prince nodded, more to himself, he had not wanted to sail either. He stopped and sat himself down on a fallen tree, gesturing for her to sit beside her before taking her hand gently and removing it from her hair. 'Might I suggest you braid your hair for tomorrow,' he saw her eyes glance at his own braids, two either side of his head that led to a larger one at the back, 'It would save you from these.' he waved one of her knotted ends in her face, her nose wrinkling as it was tickled and she gave him a swift kick in the shin.

'And I think you should try loose hair to see just how you like it!' They laughed and spoke for a long while, sharing the picnic she had brought and reliving a few fond memories of their home across the sea. It wasn't long before Thranduil found himself captivated by her entire being as was usual when in her presence, he found his eyes drawn to her lips as they were nearly a month ago in the tree. His hands were still busy with smoothing out her golden strands, she was close enough to just lean forward and kiss – close enough that he could tell her that she was his his moon, stars, sun – his very reason for existing. He would do it this time and then he would carry her home to tell everyone that she was his.   
Before he could finish those thoughts she was suddenly up on her feet, the daggers that usually sat on her slim hips were in her hands, pale blue eyes hard and focussed. He stood too, his head turning to regard he creature among the trees, it stood like a man but it was twisted and foul. 'What is this thing doing so close to your father's lands?'

Thranduil drew his sword and stepped forward, not in front of her for that would cause her wrath but beside her as an equal, though he had no qualms with pushing her aside to protect her should the need arise. 'Orcs have been encroaching for weeks now, never so close though...would you like to do the honours?'

'I do not want to spend hours getting its stink from my weapon – all yours, my prince.'

He'd cut it down with one swift move, its head left its body and thick, black blood was spilled onto the wood's floor. They'd immediately set off at a run towards home, needing to let the guard know there was trouble and the wood needed to be swept up of more foul things, 'You did not see that thing until I stood up,' she told him as they ducked under a low branch, 'And do not dare tell me you were distracted because it was more in your line of sight than mine!'

'I do not have to explain anything to you – why have you stopped!?' More to the point – why was she glaring at him as if he were an orc? 'We need to go.'

'I will have you remember just who you a speaking to, Thranduil. You may be a high elf prince now but I was once above you in title and I do not recall ever using it against you. “Explain anything to you”' she nearly spat, 'You are my dearest friend and I thought you trusted me.'

'...And you are so very dear to me, more than you know. Please, we need to warn the others before someone gets hurt.'

'The same way you may have been hurt if I had not of been with you?' She wasn't the type to let things go and Thranduil knew she was as stubborn as he was on occasion, 'Tell me.'

Thranduil's jaw clenched and he reached for the large ring on his finger, a white gem held in silver, it kept his enchantment in place and he was contemplating taking it off. How would she react to his face? To the burns that marred him, the muscle and sinew that was revealed just as plainly as his teeth. No. He let go of his ring and straightened his back in the cold demeanour his father often had. She wouldn't want to see the hole in his face that dragon's breath had left, 'I was blinded in this eye. It is not a battle story I want to talk about.'

'Then we will not talk about it.' She said gently coming to his side and taking his hand, 'Now, stop standing around! We need to warn the others!' They made it home without incident and told the elven king of what had occurred. They didn't know it at the time but this was just the beginning of something far more terrible, the shadow of the Dark Lord Sauron fell upon it, and men began to call it Mirkwood. From then on, Mirkwood became a haunted place inhabited by many dark and savage things. Sauron established himself at the hill-fortress of Dol Guldur on Amon Lanc within its southern region, and drove Oropher and his people ever northward.

And in all this time, Thranduil never spoke of his love for her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Thranduil is awkward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not overly happy with this chapter, unbeta'd as usual. It's the awkward but necessary parts. Thranduil isn't quite at his amazing Hobbit attitude level but this is like...3000 years before that? Hope you enjoy it.

Thranduil had many friends in the Greenwood, he hunted with them and more often than not got paralytically drunk with them. Despite his friendly manner with them though, they always held him in such high esteem and sometimes that annoyed him. Even now, as they were preparing for war, they treated him like they were lowly in comparison and he wanted the same comfort they gave each other in this time of fear. They were to join the armies of men and of Gil-galad, his father feared that Sauron's forces would engulf the Greenwood and that every elf in the wood was in danger – These Silvan elves chose him as their king and he cared for every one of them enough to risk his life in their defence.  
'You look distracted, my prince. You are apprehensive of the coming war?' Galion, who had elected himself as Thranduil's squire, stood by his side with a lopsided smile, 'Just think, when we come back from this scuffle we can get so drunk even we will sleep for days.'

'I look forward to that,' He was perhaps wrong, this elf treated him like any other but then...he was drunk most of the time. Looking around him, Thranduil took note of the hundreds elves in different stages of being ready to march and then there was his father, upon his black steed and in deep conversation with his golden haired elleth. Curiosity got the better of him and he left Galion to tend his horse, unfortunately he missed their conversation entirely and was greeted with his father's raised brow and the ghost of a smirk. 'We are almost ready, father.'

'Good.' he straightened up on his horse, 'I will let you say your farewells and see you at the head shortly. ' Thranduil sighed as he read that as “Bind with her already and have some children for Eru's sake”, Oropher had always approved of them as a match and voiced how frustrating it was that his son had done nothing about it for nearly three thousand years – he'd met her in Doriath and then been reunited and they were such good friends and for all that I hold dear, Thranduil, just kiss the girl already before I lock you in a small cupboard with her! Thranduil laughed quietly to himself at the various rants the king would unleash upon him.

A hand rested on his shoulder and he looked down at her, she wasn't a particularly short elf but she only just reached his chin, 'You seem rather gleeful for someone heading off to war.'

'Merely laughing at my father's expense. War gives me no joy and I pray it will be brief.' Taking her hand from his shoulder and holding it against his chest, Thranduil regarded her carefully, not knowing when he would next look upon her. He'd miss her pale blue eyes, her soft golden hair and her laugh...it was enough to make him want to refuse to ride out. 'We cannot let this evil become stronger than us. I will not see our home taken from us again.'

'You are starting to sound like a real Prince, I think you need to spill wine on me before I think highly of you!' The laughter was short lived but sweet. She pulled out a red string from her pocket, 'I want to give you something – for luck.' He nodded even though he was reluctant to let go of her hand and allowed himself to be forced into a stoop as she gathered some of his hair from the nape of his neck and began to braid it. 'Because I am not allowed to go with you and I wish you to come home the most, I am putting this in your hair so that I can be with you...in case you forget about me. No one will be able to see it at the back here – because others may be jealous – but you will know it is there.' came the quick explanation as she tied it off and let it fall back into place, 'I love you, Thranduil.' She said as she stood on tip toes to place a kiss on his cheek. 'Come home safe.'

Thranduil's heart stuttered in his chest and he found that he couldn't breathe easily. A horn sounded over the wood and he knew it was time to leave, 'And you have my thanks, my dearest friend.' He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed slightly as she returned his embrace, his mind too flustered to come up with anything eloquent, he muttered a quick 'I will see you soon.' And wishing her words of love had been more than platonic, he quickly returned to his horse. 

He knew he may not return but even that was not enough to tell her he loved her.

-  
Eleven years passed, horrible brutal years of loss and horrors that seemed burned into his inner eyelids, Thranduil felt stretched, thin and wane – Changed.  
His father had been killed very early in the fighting, their army had been cut off from the others and slaughtered in the marshes, those that had survived had looked to the prince for leadership and he had tried his hardest to be every bit of the elf his father was. The only thing that had kept him sane was the friend he'd made in an easily exasperated elf called Elrond. He'd been the herald to Gil-galad and Thranduil took some joy out of watching the dark haired elf's face – the “I am so done with you” expression being his favourite. Not to mention that he was an excellent healer who saved many of his peoples lives.

Thranduil had hoped that once Sauron was gone that he and his people would reclaim the Greenwood and dwell in the trees again but as he looked around he could only be reminded of those dark foul places he'd seen recently. He was returning home with barely one third of the army he'd left with, surely they deserved to feel safe and somewhere they could heal their hearts. He'd expand the underground halls, there was more than ample room for the Silvan elves to live and he would find a way to keep people out of his lands – he would keep out of the affairs of others and never go to war again. 

They were greeted by loved ones, advisers who were ready to whisk him off and make him king officially, children waiting for their fathers milled about their mother's skirts and his heart broke for the ones who would not find that happy reunion. But then he saw her, shining brighter than silmarils, and his heart pounded hard against his ribs. His strides became quick and he brushed aside anyone who stood in his way, his ears deaf to anyone who may have been calling out to him, she was smiling at him and her arms were more than ready to embrace him. Thranduil wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his body and only loosened his hold a fraction at her little squeak of surprise. Burying his face into her hair, he revelled at how soft it was, how she smelt of life and light and maybe a small hint of earthy leaves. 'You came back to me.' She whispered into his chest, the only place she could whisper as he seemed to be trying to crush her into his body.

'I will never leave you again, I intend to bind myself to you and never allow you to leave my side.' He had missed her, he swore to himself everyday he was away that he would tell her the second he saw her, 'I love you, my Nauglamír, since the day I saw you and every moment that has passed since.' He felt her try to pull away and he let his hands drop from her shoulder and head to loop around her waist – he wasn't ready to let go.

Even though her eyes were hard and her lips were drawn into a thin line, Thranduil couldn't say he felt heartbroken, he felt lighter now that he had finally told her. 'All this time and you said nothing?' her tone was sharp and she hit him once in the shoulder angrily, 'We could have been surrounded by children by now if you had said something! All this time wasted because you had to pretend you had no more than friendly feelings for me – The times I have offered myself up for a kiss, the hints I dropped and the day you left I bloody told you I loved you! How big a bloody hint did you need you orc headed, ridiculous...bloody...spider egg!'

His eyes were wide as he stared at her, never before had he seen her angry and it was obvious it didn't happen often if her creative insults were anything to go by. He could have laughed long and loud but she would most likely take his sword and finish the job the war had started, 'I should have told you the day I laid eyes upon you how I felt.' Thranduil told her, 'I was scared and foolish.' And because of this she had kept her own desires a secret, because of his certainty that she would never return his love he had ignored her own proclamation eleven years ago. 'If father were here he would have thrown me into the woods for the night as a lesson.' 

He had just returned from a horrific war, his father was slain and he was now king of a much diminished kingdom and he still couldn't help feeling like a young elfling. The elleth in his arms hit him once more and then flung her arms around his neck. 'If you do not cease this self pitying then I will throw you out there myself!' she said wetly and he knew she was hiding her tears in his hair, he could feel her tugging on the hidden braid she'd placed there the day he left and he had to hold her as she trembled slightly. 'Get inside and bathe.' She said as she stepped away and wiped her eyes quickly, 'I will not be the wife of someone who smells like a troll.'

He wouldn't argue with that. 'I would wed you in the morning if not for the insistence I am properly crowned first. It will be too long to wait...'

-

Galion joined Thranduil in his rooms, nothing had changed since he left them many years ago, the soon to be king stood still as his friend – or butler as he often called him jokingly – helped him remove the battered armour from his body, 'Can you clear something up for me, my prince?'

'Clearing up is your job.'

The dark haired elf rolled his eyes, used to this back and forth banter, 'I was under the impression that you had pledged yourself to a certain Lady in your life but she seemed to be hitting you a lot. You seem happy about it.' Galion placed the silver metal pieces on a nearby side, armour he would get replaced later, next he worked on the under shirt and helped Thranduil shrug it off, 'I will tell the healer to come to you after your bath, you will need bandaging again.'

'I will call him myself, Galion, I want to scrub this foul war from my skin and I do not wish to rush.' He was wrapped in white linen from his waist to his chest, the bandage then extended over his left shoulder and wrapped his arm all the way to his hand. Elrond was a very thorough bandager. 'Go find your family and rest, you more than deserve it and you have a binding ceremony to arrange for.'

Galion grinned at him, 'You asked her! I thought that punching was rather affectionate!'

'Go.' The other gave a small bow of his head and left quickly. Thranduil gave a relieved sigh, glad to have privacy for the first time and to have some comfort of home. He kicked off his boots leaving him in only his leggings and stood in front of his desk, the ornate mirror next to it showed him just how grubby he looked. His hair was stringy and laced with mud and orc blood he had missed the last time he found a lake, his skin, despite washing it every chance he got, was smudged with dirt and dust.  
Opening a drawer in the desk he pulled out a silver box and opened it, a silver circlet sat waiting for him and two empty spaces in the centre, he pulled the silver ring from his right index finger and placed it in the box. It was designed to look like the twisted branches of a tree, this one was his own, a gift from the Silvan elves to recognise him as their prince. The ring he pulled from his right ring finger, of a slightly grander design, had been his father's and was gifted to recognise him as king. One of their soldiers had taken it from cold, dead fingers and given it to him with the news that Oropher was dead.

Thranduil closed the box, content to be neither prince or king at this moment, for now he was himself. He pulled the large, white gemmed ring from his left index finger and put it on the desk without any real hesitation, he instantly felt the enchantment that hid his scars lifting. Thranduil's eyes clenched tightly and his mouth opened to let out a pained gasp; it felt like his cheek was tearing itself open. He leant forward with the pain, bracing himself on the desk and he swore it felt as if the dragon's breath was there, eating and melting the flesh of his face and body. Despite the ache it felt good to not have to concentrate on the illusion. 

He spent a long time in his bath, scrubbing, washing and soaking until the water was cold. Perhaps too long to be good for his wounds – a long cut across his middle and heat damage to the skin of his arm – Thranduil was convinced that being bundled up like a corpse was Elrond's idea of a joke, all he'd wanted was a few stitches and salve for his arm.   
Thranduil walked out into his bedroom and stopped suddenly, 'You should not be in here.' His Nauglamir was sat at his desk, a small gold box in her hands, a blush on her face to the tips of her ears and her eyes downcast. She hadn't expected him to enter the room naked as the day he was born, Thranduil pulled a sheet from his bed and wrapped it around his middle, angling his body so she couldn't see his scars, 'What would the others say if they saw you in here?'

'I do not think you care about what others think, Thranduil.' She stood up and shyly lifted her eyes, realising he was covered she raised her head, 'I had a perfectly good reason for being here but I forgot.' Standing up she made her way over to him and Thranduil couldn't help but dread it slightly; how would she react to his wounds?  
'Have I ever told you that I like your hair loose?'

'No. You can tell me what else you like to make up for it.'

'Oh, can I now? Well then,' she started playfully, 'What else do I like about my dear Thranduil...I like your hair.' her fingertips then gently traced his eyebrow, 'I like these too. Your nose has always stuck out from your face – I like that. You might look odd if it did not!' They laughed and Thranduil took her hand in his to kiss the backs of her fingers, 'I like your eyes, seeing and unseeing. Your mouth, despite the things that come out of it sometimes, I am quite fond of.'   
Thranduil kissed her hand again, 'You have not looked at me...should I come back when you are in more than a sheet?' Her fingers were still tracing along his shoulder, neck and cheek.

Thranduil gave his head a little shake as her nimble fingers tickled the tip of his ear, she seemed to enjoy his usual braids being missing, and was simply running her fingers through it, 'This sheet is only here for your benefit, I need to warn you before I turn my head. I lost the sight in my eye because of a rather resilient serpent of the north – I was badly burnt.'

'...Your ring is enchanted, I always wondered what it was for but you can be very protective of your secrets.' Thranduil held back his surprise, of course she would have noticed his ring, she had always been interested in enchantments and the like, 'The way you look has no standing in my feelings for you.' She carefully took hold of his chin and turned his head toward herself.

Thranduil blinked very slowly at her, wondering if he was seeing things or if she really wasn't disgusted by him. She looked concerned for him, her eyes scanning the damaged flesh with the worry a mother had for their child but he saw nothing that indicated she wanted to get away from him. He had to quickly grab her wrist as it raised to touch him and he fixed her with a firm stare, 'No.' The smallest hint of a smirk came upon her lips and he found he had to grab her other wrist as it too ventured toward his cheek, 'I said No.' This time his Nauglamir smiled at him and with a speed he had forgotten she had, brought their lips together in a chaste kiss – their first.

'I know you can be vain, I know you are very particular about yourself but believe me when I say I still love you and this scar is no less endearing than the rest of you. I still want to be your wife and I still want to have as many children with you as I can.' 

He couldn't help an amused scoff, 'How many children were you thinking?'

'...Hmm, I think six to begin with.' She said with all the seriousness in the world.

'Six?!' Thranduil exclaimed, 'Make it eight and we shall put Fëanor to shame.' The thought of her wanting so many elflings running around was strangely attractive to him and he kissed her smiling lips in the sudden glee he felt. 'I used to be terrified of the thought of anyone seeing me like this but this horrible war has taught me that some things are more important.'

She stepped away from him, glancing at the sheet around him and smiling, a blush coming to her face again, 'I will come back after the healer has seen you and give you what is in this box.' His eyes dropped to the small golden box he had first noticed when he'd seen her at his desk. 

-

He didn't find out what was in that box for several days. The healer had spent a great deal of time with him that evening and then he had been whisked away by advisers to give him the news of the wood since he'd been away. Then there were arrangements to be made and he only caught glimpses of his Nauglamir if he was lucky. He had been forced to hide in one of the cells of the dungeon, only having to threaten one or two guards into keeping his location secret so he could sneak into her room.  
She had been a little surprised when her door burst open and Thranduil came through it before leaning against the door with a relieved sigh. 'I know why father had locks on his door and glared at everyone now.' 

'You were always popular.' She said whilst walking to him, turning her back once she was in front of him, 'Can you lace me up – you were too late to catch me just out of my bath.' He eyed the simple white gown and the laces only half done up; pale skin tempting him to see more.  
Thranduil pulled her to his body, wrapped his arms around her middle and kissed the tip of her ear. Her head jerked away and she wriggled against him with a giggle, 'You did not sneak in here to tickle me!' 

'No, I came here to see you,' He let her go and found his way to a comfortable chair, draping himself over it like a satisfied cat, 'Come here and I shall deal with these laces of yours.' She raised an eyebrow at him, looking at the space he had taken up on what was supposed to be a two seater, she was silently asking him where she was supposed to sit exactly. Thranduil patted his lap and she pretended to give an exasperated sigh as she sat on his lap – back still presented because she obviously wanted to get dressed. 'I think we are being kept apart on purpose,' He swept her long hair up and around her shoulder, fingertips brushing her skin as often as he could, 'A punishment for taking so long about it.'

They shared a few moments of silence, his hands busy with her dress and she seemed content to brush her fingers through her slightly damp hair. It wasn't until she felt the neckline of her dress slip down her shoulders and her hands had to catch it at her breasts, 'Thranduil!' She turned toward him with her mouth slightly agape but not angry, 'Are your ears broken? I said lace UP, not make an attempt on my honour.'

'Is that what you said? I heard, “throw my dress in the fire and do what you like with me”, How odd.' He settled further into the seat and brought her with him, one hand securely around her waist and the other stroking her cheek, 'I think this is fair considering the eyeful you got a few nights past.' 

'I think it would be fairer if you kissed me.' He could think of no argument against that and brought their foreheads together softly, teasing her by barely brushing their lips together and only joining them when she pouted at him. She was soft as he had always expected but not the shy flower he had thought she'd be. She was quite happily running the hand not occupied with keeping her dress from slipping through his hair, pulling him closer when she reached the back of his head. Instead of deepening the kiss, Thranduil pulled away reluctantly – he only had so much self control. 'I am fond of this new coat; silver brocade is very becoming.'

She was biting her bottom lip to control a grin, her cheeks were pink and he could feel the slight pressure still at the back of his head, she wanted more but he couldn't trust himself. 'Was my kissing lack lustre enough to draw your attention to my clothes?' 

'I would have never have let your lips go if I had not noticed how soft this is against me,' she lightly fingered the 'v' of his coat, tickling the warm skin of the top of his chest.

'And I had nearly forgotten you are very close to being naked...'

'Well you best forget or I will not give you your gift.' With that, she got up as gracefully as she could considering she had a grabby elf and a loose dress to contend with, 'Stop it, you oath!' She slapped his hand away again and danced out of his reach, 'Stop your pouting too and sit up.'  
Thranduil pulled himself up right, slumping back petulantly as she rifled through a drawer across from him. 'You will make a very demanding queen. Maybe I should let you deal with the dwarves.'

'Maybe I should tell your advisers where you are.' This time she sat beside him, close enough that their legs were touching but not back on his lap – which he preferred – and held out the golden box to him. 'Oropher gave this to me the day you all left. He knew my mother never gave me a betrothal jewel before she sailed and he wanted me to have one...maybe he planned to make you my husband?'

Thranduil took the box with a small smile, his head leaning to the left slightly, 'He would bring it up at least eighteen times a season.' Opening the box he felt his breath catch, a large clear diamond nested in finely crafted silver sat inside. His father had obviously had him in mind when it was made and he had given it to her as a blessing for their union. He was at a loss for words even as she took it from him and carefully placed it onto his clothing. 'I...' He cleared his throat to hide the tremor, 'I also brought something with me.' The elf fumbled inside his coat for a moment, still in disbelief of what he had just been given, 'I wanted to give this to you before I left but I was not sure I would come back and - '  
He dropped the small box he had finally located and as it hit the floor it opened and the sound of metal bouncing and rolling was heard.

Her laughing filled the room as he shot up and tried to see where they had rolled off to, 'Oh, Thranduil! How are you so clumsy when you are the most graceful elf I know?' Her laugh turned into a squeal as he lifted the seat up and tipped it – being careful not to hurt her – over onto its back. Her laughing began again as he started grumbling, moving onto his hands and knees until he located them.

'You could help.' He muttered as he sat up on his knees, a ring held in his fingers, 'I found yours, though I had hoped for a different scenario.' She sat up also, pushing a cushion aside so she could get as close as the upturned seat between them would allow and offered him her hand. 'When we find the matching ring, we will be officially betrothed and you will join in the torture of preparing for a coronation.'

'You mean this ring?' Holding it up, his Nauglamír slipped the larger ring onto his finger, 'I will endure any torture providing we endure it together.' She linked her fingers with his, both of them admiring the other's ring, identical in all but size. Golden in colour, the design was as if a tiny branch, entwined with vines had been wrapped around their finger. '...Now will you please lace me up?'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't write about Thranduil probably being sad about the war because he's had eleven years to come to terms with his father's death and there are things that have changed him slightly and will lead him to become the elf we love lots.  
> I'm going to change the perspective to his wife for the next chapter and maybe ramp this up to an E rating~
> 
> p.s. Baby Legolas.
> 
> To my reviewer...I...I love you!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry?

She watched Thranduil draped across his throne, a man from the nearby Laketown was trying to strike up a deal, and she couldn't help but be impressed by her husband's impassive face. What this man was offering was an excellent answer to their wine barrel problems and she was feeling quite gleeful about it – So was her husband if the sparkle in his eyes was anything to go by. A tug on her dress made her glance down to the little, blonde elfling by her side, leaning down she accepted the slightly battered flower from him. 'Thank you, Haldamir, it is very beautiful.'

'He made me climb a tree to fetch that.' Came Galion's voice from behind her, the child ran quickly to him and hugged his leg, 'I think my son has a little crush on our most treasured queen.'

She blew a kiss to the little one and he hid behind his father's leg, 'You say that like you have a choice of queens. And I am glad little Haldamir made you go climbing.' A glance back at her husband told her he was very nearly done, he liked to stand by the steps of his throne when making a decision. 'Galion, what other business does the king have today?'

He had picked up the child and was fussing with his hair when she addressed him, Galion thought about it for a moment and then answered slowly, as if this was a test, 'My king has nothing more for the day.' That sounded perfect to her, he would have no objections if she were to entice him away from his boring old duties. 'From the look on my queen's face...I would assume you would appreciate being left alone – unless you need help seducing your husband.'

'Best I do it alone,' she smiled, 'You might just confuse him.' She left the elf and his son to their own devices, tucking the flower she had been gifted behind her ear and making her way leisurely toward the throne her husband would nap in during meetings. Maybe she could ask him to have the kingdom remodelled, she loved their underground dwelling but why were all the paths so full of turns? He had explained to her once but that was the day they were married and she'd had other things on her mind – like tripping on her dress and falling off the path. Her dress had been stunning, the trail had been six feet long, silver trim and an elegant embroidered bodice, the white chiffon over the train was similarly embroidered and beautiful spring flowers accented it. She'd cried the first time she'd tried it on then worried it would get ruined throughout the entire ceremony. A thousand years later and she still felt starstruck whenever she thought about that day.

Thranduil was waiting for her on the platform when she finally got there, the guards stepped aside and she took her husband's offered hand, 'Laketown have won their case and Dale has been sending some interesting correspondence. Have you come to save me from boredom?' She let him pull her in and kissed his jaw chastely, she had discovered long ago that he preferred to keep his duty as king and his affection for her separate, he seemed cold and indifferent to others, the moment his crown went on his head until he took it off he was an impossibly tall and imposing figure, kind to his own people and indifferent to visitors. She had heard some of the stories the men from nearby towns had made up, “The King of Mirkwood is cruel and unforgiving. If he catches you in his wood then you will thrown into his dungeons to rot”. She hated these rumours but there had been no threat in the Greenwood since he had returned from The Last Alliance. He had kept everyone safe at the cost of himself.

'I thought I could tempt you into sneaking away with me, I need help with something.' He tilted his head slightly, as if seriously thinking it over, smiled at her and keeping gently hold of her hand began to lead her away from his throne and toward the path that led to their rooms.

Thranduil dismissed the two guards as he passed them, 'What does my queen need help with?'

'An heir. I was thinking a spring baby, it would be nice to go outside with him and watch the wood come to life.' She had been thinking it through quite thoroughly, certain their first child would be a boy and she had found the perfect little clearing in the wood to play with him as he grew. She had changed what would be the prince's room several times and Thranduil had forbidden her from changing it again this age. 'I took everything the healer said to heart and I have a very good feeling this time.' 

Feeling a slight pull on her hand, she stopped to look up at Thranduil, he was giving her that fond look he gave her when she was getting ahead of herself. A look that was becoming frequent when she brought up children. 'We can not force such a blessing, mell nin. It will happen when - '

'It happens. I know...it has been so long though and...' She was starting to think something was wrong with her, maybe the Valar didn't wish for her to have a child. 'I feel like everyone here but me has a little one...Galion has two and he did not meet his wife until a few hundred years ago.' He lifted her chin, she hadn’t realised she was looking at his boots until then, and leant down to kiss her briefly.

He pulled the flower from behind her ear and tapped her nose with it, 'And every elfling here adores you. So when we are given one of our own, he or she will be loved beyond belief.' She opened her mouth to argue and he pressed his finger to her lips, 'Please...' this time he cupped her cheeks an placed a kiss on the crown of her head, 'Be patient a little longer. I know it will happen soon and if I could pluck him out of the air and place him in your arms I would. You know I would give you anything if it was within my power.'

'I know.' The queen sighed deeply and rested her hands on his chest, her fingers digging into the coat with her frustration. Thranduil doted on her always, he had time for her at any hour of the day or night, he would leave gifts for her and she wanted for nothing – other than a child. She forgot that he desired a child as much as her, he had tried everything the healers had suggested them to try along with her; she felt so ungrateful.  
'I can wait a little longer.' She said as she took a step back from him and took his hands, 'How about we join today’s hunting party? I can always improve on my bow skills and it would be good for you to spend some time with the guard – outside for once. What if you forget your way around?'

'That would be humiliating.'

-

Several more years passed by, hardly anything to an elf, and the queen was beginning to think she would never have a child. It wasn't as if they weren't trying! She was ready to give up and the anger inside was starting to simmer under her skin, she spent more time in the clearing, the one she had wanted to bring her child to, practising with her daggers. When she had started this habit it was not unusual for some of the guards to challenge her, these days she was left to it – she had been too much for her challengers to handle without causing her injury. They wouldn't face their king's wrath under any circumstances. She dove further into her studies of enchantments and Lothlorien had been generous enough to send her some rare tomes and she spent many hours with them.  
Thranduil was patient with her, he was forever patient and she wondered how he did it, he understood her too well and she wanted to hide her dark moods from him. He deserved better.

As each new season came her anger rose and it was getting noticed more often then not. Today was enough for her and she had been in the clearing half the day already, her practice so far uninterrupted and she was more than happy about it. A well meaning elleth had approached her that morning, she of course had a baby in her arms and many stories about her darling little ones – And how it really didn't matter if the Queen of The Greenwood was childless. She had other duties to preoccupy her time.  
That had been as far as her patience could stretch. So here she had been, venting her anger and wishing she had more than thin air to thrust her daggers into.

She heard someone approaching, a steady pace and purposely loud enough for her to hear, they obviously knew better than to sneak up on her. 'I thought you might need a sparring partner.' She glanced over her shoulder to regard her husband – she wasn't so sure he was welcome. His crown and silver coat were missing, the light tunic he wore beneath clung to him and she was distracted long enough to not throw her dagger at him. He would likely deflect it but he wouldn't be happy about it. 'We have not practised swordplay in a very long time, I bet I can still beat you single handed and with no effort.'

'Give me a sword and I will prove you wrong, my king.' He threw a sword to her and waited for her to make the first move. She knew her husband knew her too well when he smirked as her eyes narrowed just as she leapt forward to attack. Thranduil knew she expected him to defend and usually she knew he would but today he seemed to forget his usual “gentleness” when sparring with her, he stepped into her as he raised his sword to block and continued his advance on her before striking her square in the chest with his shoulder, aiming to push her back a few feet.  
She stumbled back, tripping over her own feet and onto her backside; too astonished that he had done that and strangely pleased. He always seemed to know what she needed without her saying a word.

Thranduil offered her his hand and she smiled up at him as she took it to get to her feet, he hadn't expected her to drop her smile and yank him toward her. She drove her elbow into his gut just as she twisted her foot around his and sent him to the floor. Even if she hadn't hurt him as much as she wanted to with her elbow, he was still on his back on the ground. 'What was that about no effort?' She grinned.

'You forgot your own feet.' He trapped her feet in a similar move and she found herself falling forward, Thranduil catching her before they hurt each other. She was too tired to struggle up and simply lay on top of her husband, he seemed content to let her stay there, 'You are troubled today, my Nauglamir, What is it?' Not wanting to answer, the golden haired elleth attempted to get up but found a pair of strong arms trapping her waist, 'You are frightening my guards and I saw some very nervous rabbits on my way here – I miss your smile and the light it brings from you. What must I do to make you happy?' She expected frustration to linger in his eyes, maybe a change in his voice to let her know she was being unreasonable but he only showed his usual compassion.

'Be angry at me!' She hissed, kissing him hard before he could retort. Just once she wanted him to be selfish, tell her what he wanted and take his frustrations out on her for once. Whenever he was unhappy, Thranduil would avoid her until it passed and then he would apologise for staying away. She had tried it his way but she always ended up venting whilst he poured wine for her and listened attentively. She released his lips and looking at his face again – hardly surprised that he looked shocked and she found herself angrier. 'There are only two things I can give you; children and my love. I have failed again and again to bear you any children and I am too angry to love you the way you deserve. Especially as it has been brought to my attention that I should be concentrating on my duties and not wasting time on babies! How can you stand me like this?'

She gasped when he rolled them suddenly, trapping her beneath him and for the first time she could ever recall, he gave her a hard look. The same impassive expression he would give to an unwelcome stranger, 'You are enough for me – I have run out of ways to tell you that! I am angry. I am angry that I can not give you what you need, that I have let you give up on this and hide yourself away. But do not tell me to blame you, to feel anything ill of you.' This time he was the one to claim her mouth, kissing her harder than he'd ever dared before, she moaned into his mouth and managed to free one of her arms trapped against his chest, fingers delving into his hair and tugging roughly.   
She wanted him closer, she wanted to crawl inside his chest and hide there until the world crumbled. He pulled away and she followed the king's lips with her own, pressing their lips together twice more until Thranduil was too far away for her to reach as he sat up. With both hands now free she grasped his tunic at the neck and pulled hard until the shriek of tearing material sounded in her ears, his jaw dropped and it was his turn to stare at her wide eyed, 'And you expect me to walk around with my clothes torn off?'

'You have no choice now.' 

Her answer caused him to exact revenge on her own clothing, the dark green tunic she wore to hunt in was tugged roughly open, he was only a little more careful with the fastenings than she was. His hair was pulled again as she brought their mouths together, her excitement building with every kiss in a way she hadn't experienced before. Their couplings were always slow and careful, expressing their love and giving the other pleasure. This was selfish and almost desperate and she was more than eager to see how this would end.  
Thranduil tore his mouth away and attacked her neck, kissing her soft skin and sucking small bruises that would heal too quickly onto her. His lips and tongue travelled lower until they found her breast, she could feel him smile against her nipple when she let out a pleasured whine, the hand not caressing her breast caressed its way down her ribs and over her stomach before disappearing into her leggings.

Too wrapped up in her own pleasure she startled as his finger slipped inside her making her roll her hips into the sensation. He watched her face as he pushed a second finger in alongside the first, Thranduil had always enjoyed watching his queen arch gracefully and writhe against him, 'I have missed your company, mell nin.' Another finger entered her and at the same time a warm, wet mouth wrapped around her reddened nipple again. The golden haired elleth shivered at the dual sensations, hips rocking on instinct to get more and wound her husband's hair into her fist, giving a sharp yank when lightning seemed to sing through her.  
Thranduil hissed in a breath, his own hand reaching up and grabbing her wrist until his hair was freed. He crawled up his lover's body, sharp little nips rained down on her skin, 'I will be angry,' he all but growled into her ear, nipping the point gently, knowing her ears were especially sensitive, 'If you pull my hair again; I will turn you over and do whatever I please with you, do you understand my queen?” She shivered violently, purely from his voice.

Her hands worked furiously on the fastenings of his leggings, his length already straining against the soft fabric, 'I understand but I have no desire to listen.' A ghost of a smile flashed across his features and she let out a delighted squeal when he caught her wrists in his hand and held them against her chest whilst he pulled at her bottoms, freeing one leg before positioning himself. Her bottom lip was bitten in an attempt to quiet the moan wanting to escape her, Thranduil had no such qualms and let his own moan out as her body clenched around the intrusion, shivering delightedly at the feel she wrapped her legs around his hips. 'Please...' His hips thrust into her and she threw her head back, long hair splaying over the grass, and her face contorted into a mask of pleasure, slits of pale blue barely seen through a shield of eyelashes as she pulled him in for a kiss. 

She felt him grasp the back of her thigh, just above her knee, and lifted it over his shoulder, the loud, desperate, near scream she released was swallowed by him. Her hips rocked up against her husband's as his thrusts became faster and more forceful, the sensation of his length rubbing her insides, the burn of being pulled tight over it - she couldn't think. could hardly breathe. This wasn't the same, overwhelming feelings he usually instilled her body with. This was raw and the pure sensations caused her nails to bite into his back as she tried to ground herself.  
She tried to look at him, catching a smug kind of satisfaction in his expression before being swept up in pleasure and letting her eyes close again. Tearing her mouth away from his she let out a strangled cry as her body stiffened and tensed. She heard him let out a similar cry of completion through the haze of her orgasm.

They took their time recovering, Thranduil stretched out on his back like a lazy cat and she was tucked against his side, the anger from earlier gone and replaced with a tired sort of satisfaction. Her sadness still lingered but it was buried a little deeper for now, 'How are we going to get you back to our rooms without anyone noticing your tunic is ripped?'

'Hmm?' He replied lazily, taking a little time before answering, 'I will tell them I was assaulted on my afternoon walk.'

-

She had thrown herself into her role as queen more readily, there wasn't a lot she had to do – Even Thranduil struggled to find anything to do most days. It was a peaceful time in middle earth and the elves of Greenwood were more than capable of looking after themselves, only really looking to their King when something was wrong or a problem needed solving that affected everyone. They had been involved in the arrangements of a celebration soon to pass, she thought having it outside under the stars would be best and he was concerned about border patrol to keep the merry makers safe. It had caused a few drawn out discussions but it kept her busy and she enjoyed verbal sparring with her husband. 

The night of the celebration found her alone inside, she'd abandoned the party and the drinking for the solitude of her husband's throne. The dim lights of the lanterns gave their home a gentle glow, almost like a fireplace, and the silken, red coat Thranduil had left thrown over the throne was strangely warm against her bare arms. 'You look far too regal up there.' She jumped at the familiar, smooth voice, 'You sit in it just like father used to.'

'You mean properly? I tried to drape myself over it but my legs are not as long as yours and it was terribly uncomfortable.' She watched his ascent up the stairs with curiosity – it was very unlike him to leave a celebration. He enjoyed them too much to be dragged away. 'Did you sense someone sat in your seat?'

He smiled at her teasing, perching himself on the arm of his throne, 'I sensed my wife was not with me, I left Galion and the captain of the guard passed out to show you how well I can drink wine and you were nowhere to be seen. What brought you here?' He tucked an errant strand of her hair behind her ear and caressed the shell of her ear with his thumb until she shook him off with a laugh.

She grabbed the offending hand and kept hold of it firmly, squeezing it fondly before answering him, 'I know how well you can out drink the others. I thought I would escape the noise for a little while and whilst I was wandering I saw your throne empty. I wanted the prince to get a feel for this oversized chair.' 

Thranduil's head snapped to the side, his eyebrows raising first and very slowly a look of pure awe took his features. The king's mouth was ajar, his bottom lip almost quivering as he tried to force words out and failed miserably. He instead repeated her words in a soft breath, 'Prince...?' She nodded and again he couldn't seem to comprehend it. He stood up suddenly, he seemed to be looking around the halls aimlessly and she sat up a little straighter, letting her husband's red robe fall from her shoulders. Thranduil turned on his heel and with a flourish he picked her up in a bridal carry, kissing her face until her laughter echoes through the empty halls, 'The Valar have answered us!'

-

Despite several months of feeling tired and almost constantly nauseous, the queen was in high spirits and Thranduil was tempted to write Celeborn a letter bragging about his wife being the new Lady of Light. The two elves had always argued over their borders and whilst he held no ill will toward Galadriel – his wife was bright as any star as if the babe inside her were a ball of pure light. She glowed.   
Elrond had passed through with his wife recently, their two young toddlers almost putting him off parenthood. The Lord of Rivendell would often visit on his way to or from Lothlorien, it had been good for his Nauglamir to spend time with Celebrien and Elrond had suggested a few remedies for her bouts of sickness. 

And despite the other's assurance that some elleth had a miserable time whilst with child, Thranduil worried when his wife was unwell. She was sat on his lap in their room, he had been reading at his desk when she had come to him and sat down on him. She was still glowing but he could see she was tired and her skin was a little clammy, he knew her body ached more and more as the child grew. Strong kicks assaulted his palm as he rested it against her large belly, 'You will make your mother ill if you continue that, little one.' Another kick had him shaking his head fondly at the unborn baby, 'He is stubborn.'

'He is also large. I spoke to Nestor and she says he is growing well, he will be strong and healthy and very soon he will be here in our arms.' She sounded exhausted but he could not mistake the happiness in her, 'She says I must rest more and regain my own strength...and that you have to rub my feet. Whenever I want because my ankles are as thick as your arms.' He rubbed his cheek against her hair, massaging her back and agreeing to her every whim.

Another few months passed, spring merging with summer and Thranduil found himself sat on his bedside with a damp cloth to his wife's head. The heat of the season wasn't enough to bother an elf but she seemed affected by it and he tried to help as best he could, her baby aches had worsened with each passing week and he was frightened for her. The beautiful glow she had gotten when the child was begotten had faded and his queen seemed sick – even the healers were spending more time than he liked with her. It must have been a joke the Valar had come up with; Give them a child in exchange for her health. It frightened him, his own mother had died giving birth to him and he dreaded the birth almost as much as he looked forward to it. 'Nestor is preparing something to bring your temperature down and help you sleep.' He told her when she kicked the light sheet from her body, she nodded weakly and sighed when he pressed the cloth closer to her, 'This will pass, mell nin. This will pass and Nestor predicts an easy birth – You can make him do chores when he is older as punishment for all of this.' Another small nod, this time with an amused laugh and a demand for a cool bath.

It did not pass and when she went into labour he wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and hide. He felt as if he were trapped in the marshes again, surrounded by Orcs and the bodies of his comrades. It was a a fear that sat deep and heavy inside him, every pained cry from his wife felt like a knife in his gut. Galion was at his side, watching him pace up and down, the butler tried to soothe him but it had no effect. 'It has been too long, Galion! She is unwell and no one can help her.' Before the other could answer Thranduil went back to his frantic pacing. Another cry came from behind the door and he snapped, pushing the door open and leaving the dark haired elf in the hall, his hand raised as if to grab him but now usually floating there.

Thranduil ignored the irritated look of the healer, Nestor, she had told him he would be in the way but she was not going to command her king to leave. He stroked his queen's sweat dampened hair back from her flushed face and she opened her eyes in surprise; she visibly brightened, reaching shaky hands to grip into his robes, 'I cannot bear to wait outside. I need to give him a lecture on how to properly treat his mother,' she breathed out a little laugh at his comment and nodded, 'Allow me to stay?' She nodded again and relaxed a little as he rubbed her stomach in soothing circles.

He let her hold his hand, wincing as he felt his bones grind together as she squeezed firmly and when she leant forward on the bed he rubbed the tension from her lower back; his lips resting on her head as he muttered encouragement. After what seemed like an eternity one of the assistants announced that she could see the baby’s head – it was almost over. The queen hid her face in the crook of his shoulder as she felt a horrible burning, tearing sensation, she felt as if she would rip in two and screamed into his shoulder. Everything seemed to slow down, a shrill cry echoed in their ears and peeking out from her husband’s shoulder she watched as the healer fussed with something small before she caught a glimpse of the baby – her baby.   
Thranduil's grin was wide as he stared at his son, it wasn't until he felt the body in his arms go limp that he looked down at his unconscious wife, 'Nestor!' he yelled in alarm.

The healer paused in her examination of the elfling and handed the now clean and wrapped baby to one of the assistants, her eyes suddenly hard as she began ordering the others around, 'Please lay her down, my king.' The elleth rested her palm against the queens head, closing her eyes and remaining still. Thranduil watched her fearfully and when she opened her eyes and looked at him...he brought his hand to his mouth and shook his head.  
She spoke to the assistant quickly and the younger elleth handed him his son and ushered him gently out of the room. He took deep breaths of air, he couldn't seem to fill his lungs enough and he found himself holding the crying newborn against him, 'I am here, little one, I am not leaving you...'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be an epilogue~  
> Comments appreciated... :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...So I totally lied. I'm a massive troll and there are one, maybe two more chapters to go. I'm not even sorry!

Chapter 4

 

Thranduil held his son, the tiny bundle fit so perfectly in the crook of his elbow and despite the awful cries coming from the newborn, he couldn't help the smile on his face, 'Galion, come see him.' The other elf came forward to his king and looked down at the small prince, 'Have you ever seen anything more perfect?'

'No, my king, he truly is a blessing and with his mother's hair no less.' Thranduil stroked the sparse, golden strands on the infants head and continued to stare in wonder, 'The queen?' Galion prompted before the other was completely enamoured.

His jaw tensed and he did his best to think of anything but his Nauglamir, 'She...' a particularly loud cry made them both wince and Thranduil carefully moved the baby to rest against his chest, his hand nearly engulfed the tiny baby's head as he stroked his thumb along fine hair, 'She is resting.' He couldn't say that the queen had left them, 'Hush, little one.' Still the baby cried and it was then that Thranduil started to have concern for his son, 'He will not calm,'

Galion gave a sympathetic look to the child and then glanced at the door they were stood outside of, 'He has yet to meet his mother, he has known only her body for his entire life and is eager to meet her. Poor child has just had a horrible experience, been given a sponge bath, wrapped in a blanket the size of Arda and thrown at his father – I would weep against you, my king.'

A decidedly loud snort of amusement came from the king and set off another loud wail, “When you say it like that - '

'My king.' the door opened to reveal the assistant, 'Our lady queen is asking for the prince. All will be well now as long as she rests.' She stepped to the side and, with a small bow of her head, bid the king to enter. Thranduil blinked dumbly at the elleth, her words not sinking in at first and then he wasn't sure he believed them. She had been limp in his arms, her light diminished and any life she had seemed gone – he saw it himself!

Galion straightened up and quickly said, 'I will have have her room prepared and consult the healers of anything that may be needed.'

Thranduil nodded his thanks and entered the room slowly, as if he was waiting for a trick, baby still crying against him and his eyes firmly on his wife. She was flushed, colour he had not seen in many weeks, her eyes glassy and her skin still clammy, delicate, shaking hands reaching for their child as he drew near, 'Do not strain yourself, mell nin. He longs for you too.' She cradled the baby close to her chest and looked at him as if he were a star fallen from the sky, the wails quieted quickly down to whining and she gave a small sob as her baby squinted up at her for the barest of moments.

'H-he has your eyes, I...I - ' The queen pulled the baby closer and hunched in on herself, as if she could cocoon the little one, and began to cry in earnest. 

Thranduil became alarmed that his wife was so distressed, 'Mell nin, what is it? Why do you cry?' He practically scurried to the head of the bed, sat on his haunches beside his wife and wrapped his arms around her seemingly fragile form – Just to have her in his arms alive seemed too much. 'Are you in pain, mell nin?' She shook her head, now rested against his shoulder, her voice wet and trembling as she told him she was happy.  
Happy? Thranduil's eyebrows drew together at her words, she didn't seem happy in the slightest and now their son had begun to cry again, 'I had no idea that his eye colour meant that much to you.'

She gave a weak laugh and again shook her head, 'I was frightened, I thought I would not be strong enough to help him into this world, I thought I was leaving you and my baby, I woke up and you were not here – he was not here!' Thranduil pressed her closer, mindful of their son between them, 'But now he is here in my arms, he is safe and perfect and you are here and I waited so long and – and...'  
The king hushed her and gently cradled her as she cried. Relieved that she was in no great distress and after a while she calmed, settling against his side to simply regard the child in her arms. 'Legolas.' she whispered into the quietness of the room, the baby now sleeping.

'Legolas Thranduilion.' The king repeated with a lazy smile. 'It is a good name.'

-

On reflection, Thranduil still thought it was a good name but he had reservations about the baby. The blue eyed terror was barely a month old and already he knew how to cause trouble. Legolas had gotten him into more trouble with his wife than he'd ever managed in his entire life. The elfling would be happily nestled in his arms, cooing and grasping at his hair quite content. Then his mother would appear and Legolas would cry until she took him, throwing accusing glances at the king as if he'd done something wrong. She seemed to enjoy the incredulous looks he cast his son and that made it well.

She had remained weak and bedridden for almost two weeks before becoming strong enough to stand without fainting – he had stayed by her side the entire time. Whatever illness she had had was fading as each hour passed and she was able to go where she wanted, though he had noticed she would take short rests throughout her day, and they were able to go outside.  
The clearing, in which their son was begot, had burst to life with flowers and the shade of the trees provided their child protection from the bright sun, his wife was sat with Legolas in her arm and a was tickling his round, little cheeks with an orange bloom. 'Are you tormenting him again?' Thranduil teased as he rested beside her, 'He will have a flower phobia by his first be-getting day.'

'Oh hush, I am not the one who makes him cry all the time,' She smiled as she threaded the flower into his hair.

Thranduil's eyebrow rose and he gave his son a discerning look, Legolas seemed to know his father was onto his plan to steal his wife's affections and chose that moment to whine up at his mother, she immediately took her eyes from Thranduil's and fussed over her son. 'He does it on purpose, he is cunning like his mother and you have fallen for it.'

She laughed at him then, 'He is a baby, my love, he does not have any cunning yet.'

His wife believed those words even as their elfling grew, his son's first words were for him and he had been delighted. Legolas had been sat on his lap whilst Thranduil read through some correspondence in his room, the tiny elf turned his head upwards, looking up his father's nose, and babbled out his name. Being called 'Father' had made him smile foolishly and drop his work to find his wife – keen to show off.   
She had taken Legolas into her arms and Thranduil had urged his son to say it again and with his own babyish grin, Legolas had looked at his mother and called her name. 

Then as Legolas learned to walk he found a new game to play. Often he would spend time on Thranduil's lap when his mother was too busy to watch him properly, the elfling was content to amuse himself by twirling his father's hair and then he would wriggle down to sit on his father's foot whilst playing with his toys under the desk. The second his mother walked into the room, Legolas would get up and run on his tiny, clumsy legs to her, a pout on his face and hide behind her skirts – having the cheek to send his father accusing looks until She would ask Thranduil what he'd done to their child!  
He was a naughty little imp that seemed delighted to get his father into trouble. And Thranduil loved it. It was a game he joined in often; for every disapproving glance Legolas earned him from his Nauglamir – Thranduil would earn one for his son. 

Elflings grew a little slower than other races but their minds were very quick, at ten years old Legolas would have been mistaken for a five year old by men but to his own kin he was still very much a baby. Thranduil had kidnapped his son from what looked like mundane elleth chatter and brought him out into the wood. The little elfling's hair bounced around his shoulders as he hopped over a quick succession of roots and he turned quickly to make sure his father was watching and grinned. Thranduil often rolled his eyes when his wife cooed over Legolas but he had to admit the child was beautiful, he had his mother's golden hair, it barely brushed his shoulders and it was kept out of his eyes by a silver clasp at the back, his blue eyes were always wide and excited and his grin was constant. Unless he was pouting at some sort of injustice done to him...usually when more sweets were denied.

'Where are we going?' Legolas asked as he took his father's hand, his arm stretched up above his head to reach, 'We have never gone this way before!' He was still jumping up and down excitedly and Thranduil pulled him up into the air and held him up a few steps whilst the elfling giggled, 'Down!' His little feet were back on the ground and he was off running, never too far and he would hide behind the tree trunks until the king caught up. 'Look!' Legolas exclaimed as he stopped dead and pointed at a tree.

Thranduil looked up, well craned his head up as he could reach it with a jump, 'Are you hungry?' He glanced at his elfling who was still looking up at the piece of fruit in the tree, 'You could climb up and get it, little one.'  
Legolas's eyes went impossibly wide and his little jaw dropped as he shook his head quickly. He said it was too high and he couldn't jump that far. Thranduil laughed and stroked the top of Legolas's hair, 'You need to climb, not jump, up there. I will teach you how and I promise I will not let you fall.' It took a little persuasion but Legolas grasped the vines growing up the trunk and, with his father holding onto the back of his tunic the entire time, began climbing clumsily up. Thranduil had to lift him onto the branch once he reached level with it and once the elfling was straddling the branch with both his hands on it, Thranduil let him go. The little elf's face was horrified, not even realising that he was no higher than his father's head, 'I will not let you fall.' He repeated and then made an offer he knew Legolas would not refuse, 'I will take you swimming once you have it.'

Legolas looked up at the fruit and shakily reached for it, huffing that it was just out of reach he very carefully began to stand on the branch, hugging the trunk for dear life as he pulled the fruit and an accidental twig free. 'I got it!' He beamed and then, 'Carry me down.'

'Or you can climb down like a big elf.' Thranduil told him.

Legolas put his pout into action and narrowed his eyes, 'Or I could tell mother you left me up here.' He ignored the unimpressed look from his father and added, 'All day...without food.'

Thranduil grabbed his elfling from the tree and threw him over his shoulder, 'You are a little imp! I should send you to the dungeon without dinner and make you eat worms.' Legolas kicked his little legs in the air and protested loudly until he was put down and tickled mercilessly. 'Are you still going to tell your mother you lies?' he stopped his tickling and let Legolas uncurl from his protective ball – then attacked his vulnerable tummy.  
They spent the rest of the afternoon swimming, Legolas nervous about the new area but easily swayed by his father and by the time they returned home, Legolas was napping against his father and drooling on his neck .

He roused as they entered the halls and blinked sleepily, content to lay there until her heard his name, 'Legolas,' The elfling turned his head and as soon as he located his mother he wriggled out of his father's arms and ran to her, hugging her legs and pouting, 'What is wrong?' She asked as she knelt down to stroke his cheeks with a fond smile.

Thranduil watched in unsurprised horror as his beloved son pointed at him, giving his mother the most innocent face, and proclaimed, 'Father said he was going to make me eat worms!' Thranduil shook his head and mouthed out; Little imp!

His wife saw past Legolas's games easily but she was too in love with the elfling to ever side against him. It was far more fun for her to give her husband a mock glare and an exaggerated sigh, 'I will not let him make you eat worms.' She kissed his head and pinched his cheeks gently, 'Now, you go with Galion to wash your hands and maybe he will find you some cake – I will stay here and tell your father off.' The tiny blonde cheered and raced off with Galion following quickly.  
Standing up, she made her way to Thranduil's side and took his right hand before walking with him to their rooms, 'Worms?' she asked him.

'That was after I told him I would put him in the dungeon.' She laughed at that and he continued, 'He tried to bargain with me and he lost, Valar help us when he is older. I might make him head of trade, the merchants of Dale will provide free goods with our elfling's threats to tell on them to their mothers.'

She let him go once they reached their destination, wandering to their wardrobe and opening the finely crafted door to browse the clothing, 'I should be firmer with him, what if he becomes spoilt?' Her hands carded through until she found a rich red robe and she pulled it out to show him, 'You should wear this one.'

'He will not become spoilt, Legolas is a good child and we reward that behaviour – he knows when enough is enough.' Thranduil stripped off his dark green tunic and tossed it over the back of a chair, he knew it would have been pointless to wear any other colour whilst out with Legolas as they spent so much time rolling around in the undergrowth of the wood. He looked at the robe and then at his wife with confusion, 'Why that one? Have I forgotten a special occasion?' It was one of the grandest robes he owned and he only wore it rarely, 'Legolas's be-getting day is far away, as is yours...there are no celebrations today...' His head tilted to the side and his eyebrows drew together as he tried to figure out what he had missed.

Whilst he thought, his queen had pulled out several other items of clothing and was now attempting to choose between her own dresses. 'You have forgotten nothing. A message arrived whilst you were playing with Legolas; Dwarves from Erebor are visiting.' She heard him collapse into a chair bodily and let out a deep moan, she didn't need to turn to see the disgruntled king behaving like a child, 'I know you dislike the dwarves and would rather shave your head than deal with them but I thought it would be a good trading opportunity. They will not even bother us if you agree and they have sent a lovely gift.'

'They can send me what they like, I will not trade with dwarves! They are dishonest and greedy – We would still have Doriath if they had not betrayed Thingol, if they had not murdered him.' He kicked off his boots and continued to mutter angrily to himself. 'What do they even want?'

She put her dresses down and sat beside him patiently, kissing his bare shoulder once and settling her head on it – this way he would be unable to get up and walk away without knocking her. She knew he wouldn't do that an effectively had him trapped. 'They want access to the caves inside Dol Guldur. What is the harm in that?'

'It is an evil place. We used to live there...it was the centre of this realm and Sauron ruined it. That place is the reason we had to flee over the mountains and settle here, it made the wood sick and we lost many in the battles to reclaim it. Celeborn and I barely won and if Galadriel had not used her ring to dispel it's walls we would not live here at all – Lothlorien would not exist.' Celeborn had always resented him for leading his people away and leaving Lothlorien the only inhabited place near Dol Guldur. 'You remember this of course.'

'I remember.' She admitted with a sigh, 'It has been a very long time since anything evil lived in that place, what harm can the dwarves do? If something happens then we are many miles away, a river – which we enchanted – and a mountain range stand between us. This palace is a fortress and those that live in the trees and huts outside could take refuge if they were worried. They will pay for the passage. Everyday they are in our realm they will pay in gold and gems.' Producing a pouch from her side she tipped the contents into her palm, clear white gems, already cut and cleansed sparkled up at the king and he couldn't help but admire them. Other than his wife and child, white stones were a weakness and he wanted more of these; almost enough to take leave of his senses. 'He said these were a gift and that they had more.'

He agreed hesitantly and she went back to choosing her dress. Dwarves liked fine things, the more wealth they thought you had the more they seemed to respect you and so the King and Queen of the Woodland Realm had to make quite an impression. If was more about rank than respect for them, the dwarves of Erebor had to see a rich and powerful Greenwood or else they would surely trample through the wood taking what they pleased. Thranduil had ordered a small team of elleth to help his wife get ready for the visit as she was the most valuable thing in the realm to him and he would have their guests know it.

-

'Why do I have to wear robes tonight?' Legolas asked as he piled bubbles onto his head from the bath he was sharing with his mother. He had walked in whilst she was bathing, ignoring the people milling about in the room trying to decide on what colour his mother should wear and decided to jump in with her. 

She smiled at him and rubbed the bubbles into his hair to wash it for him, 'We have visitors coming and we must all be on our very best behaviour. You will have to be very quiet and sit where I tell you to until your father is finished speaking with them. Dwarves can be rude sometimes so you have to show them how to behave.'

'Dwarves?!' He exclaimed and looked up at her, 'Father says they are bad! He said that they are greedy and that they do whatever they please and do not care who they anger...why are they coming – I do not want them to!' His little feet kicked in the water and she had to pull him into a hug before he slipped under the water of the large bath. She held his back to her chest until he huffed and stopped moving.

The prince usually liked visitors, he liked Elrond's sons so much that he asked them to visit all the time, even though they were fully grown elves, he enjoyed the time that Galadriel had visited. Though it was possibly the torment he gave the young guardsman, Haldir, that he liked best. He watched the people from Laketown with fascination and asked about the race of men from time to time, wanting very much to learn the common tongue after a group from Dale took refuge one night. 'Hush, little one. They will not misbehave whilst your father is here and it is only for tonight. They will leave in the morning and you will not have to see them again. Now, stop pouting and let me wash your hair properly.'

He allowed her to finish and then had to sit patently on her bed whilst someone brushed and braided her hair, they had taken hair from either side of her head, twisting and twirling until the braids looked like a small bundle of flowers at the back f her head. The rest of her hair was left loose and the elfling stared at his mother's hair in awe. 'You look pretty!' he exclaimed. She smiled at him brightly and even though she wore only a white under dress and her hair, he had made her feel happy. Even more so when Thranduil entered the room and the little elfling pointed to her and said excitedly, 'Look. Father! Look how pretty mother is! Like starlight!' 

Thranduil smiled at Legolas, agreeing wholeheartedly with his son and placing him on his lap whilst he sat on the end of the bed, 'You are exactly right.' He used Legolas's distraction to pull a white robe over his head, knowing that his child had no appreciation for nice clothing and preferred to run around in, usually, mucky tunics and leggings – little boots too if they were lucky. He was very much a child of the woods and not one who liked to dress up. 'Be good and I will braid your hair.' This instantly caused the elfling to stop complaining about his “dress” and sit still, 'What colour do you think a queen should wear?' 

'Green.' Legolas said without hesitation.

'Why green?' She asked him.

'It is my favourite colour.' Thranduil rolled his eyes and took the brush his wife passed to him, immediately setting to work on the tangles in his son's hair, 'Or silver. You have a silver coat on, father. You would match then.' Both parents ignored the fact that Legolas had seen the silver dress just before he answered. It was relatively simple, a square neckline and emerald embellishments but the sheer robe that was placed over her shoulders shimmered and shined in the low lights of the room. 

'I hope you do not expect me to walk anywhere – there must be seven foot of train on the floor.' She turned her body slightly and sighed at the material behind her; she liked fine clothes and dresses but like her son, she like something she could run around in, 'At least I am not climbing the stairs up to your throne.' 

Thranduil noted the smug look on her face and couldn't help the smile that appeared on his own face, he finished braiding his son's hair, a braid either side of his head that joined at the back to form a larger one – much like the one he used to wear. 'Actually,' he started and waited for her to look at him, 'I would have you sat there - ' Legolas quickly chimed in and asked if he was allowed to sit on the throne too, 'You may sit in your mother's lap,' A cheer came from the elfling and then a groan when someone arrived with his silver coat to go over his robes. Thranduil shooed the little elf from his lap and stood up to accept his own red robe gracefully. 'You are more adept at watching people's expressions than I. I cannot watch all of these dwarves at once and you would be able to see all of them from the throne.'

She ducked down a little as her crown was placed on her head, it was similar to her husband's though much smaller and subtler, more a pretty adornment than a crown, 'I understand. They will be too busy watching you to notice me looking for any ill will in their eyes...just attempt to be nice.'

'Consider it attempted.'

-

She sat with Legolas on her lap, the elfling had been every bit a tiny prince, she had remained still and listened to quietly – feeling somewhat like a trophy so high up. The dwarves stole glances at her until Thranduil would send them a pointed look and she wanted to giggle like a girl, it was nice to be admired by someone else for a change but better that her husband was being so possessive.   
Legolas would look up at her every now and then in confusion, he couldn't understand the words being spoken and he was not used to seeing his father behave as a cold king. He whispered why his father was so mean at one point and she stroked his hair gently, 'A king must pretend to be mean sometimes.'

'But he is frightening...'

This time she kissed his head, catching a rather dangerous looking dwarf almost cooing at them – the stone headed fools could be so soft sometimes. 'Yes.' she admitted quietly, though she wasn't frightened in the least and had to try very hard to stop the flush rising to her cheeks, she did love when he acted like this. 'But you know he is only playing a game with them, if he is nice to them they might think he is week and bully your father.' Legolas nodded slightly and failed to hide a yawn. At this point she stood up and moved Legolas against her so that she could carry him in one arm against her hip. Thranduil stopped the dwarf who was talking with a single finger as he looked up at her, 'Your child is tired, it is late and even I grow weary of this meeting – If we let these miners into Dol Guldur we risk others venturing in without permission.'

They had rehearsed this in their room before meeting the dwarves, Thranduil knew they would be unwilling to pay what they had promised and would try to lower their offer, he knew that arguing with them would cause an endless ring of excuses. He had asked her to stand, as she had done, and make it seem like she was discouraging him to accept Erebor's offer. 'You are right,' He said coolly, meeting her half way up the steps and taking her hand to lead her down, 'It does not seem worth the risk.'

And as if on cue, the dwarves began to disagree loudly, claiming that they could pay more and provide some interesting trade, everything that had been promised was suddenly being thrown back on the table. The dangerous looking dwarf came forward with, 'My brother is an excellent smith, he has a small share in a mythril mine and we could make the little princess a very lovely tiara.' Legolas had started the evening with a silver circlet on his head but he'd “misplaced” it somewhere from his room to the main hall – probably hidden in a pot. 'Every little girl should have a pretty tiara.' 

The heavily bearded dwarf was beaming up at Legolas as they said it and the little elfling's jaw dropped, his eyes widened and he looked at his parents in disbelief before looking at the dwarf again, 'I am a boy!' He said loudly and pulled at his robe slightly, 'They made me wear a dress but I am a boy!'

The queen hushed her son quickly and nodded to the butch dwarf, 'Thank you for your offer Master dwarf.'

The dwarf's eyebrows furrowed and they huffed indignantly, 'I am a Mistress Dwarf!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a believer that just because we know nothing about Legolas's Mother, doesn't means she's dead/taking a boating trip. Thranduil probably has her tucked away somewhere safe having a pedicure...she also has a fear of spiders - she ain't going anywhere whilst those disgusting arachnids are hanging out in the wood.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So second to last chapter. I had a whole other story line for this but It would have been drama for the sake of drama. Found out that Thranduil is from Lindon and not Doriath but look at all my cares right now!

Legolas was naughty but Thranduil never thought him to be spoilt or softened by his mother's excess love, the elfling never cried unless he was in pain or had a very real reason to and the king found it very strange that Legolas should choose to spill tears now. His Nauglamir was leaving for Rivendell, a visit she had been longing to make to Celebrien and fretting also. She was going alone, with at least six of his best guards – originally twelve but she'd convinced him otherwise – she worried about leaving Legolas for several months and she hated leaving her husband's side but he couldn't make the trip this time; Legolas would not fair well on the journey until he was a little older.  
'Please do not cry, little one.' She said gently as she held him to her, he'd hidden his head in her shoulder and everyone could hear his muffled crying, 'It is only for a little while and I will bring back the cake you like so much.' She sent Thranduil a worried look and the King stepped in to pry his son away – he wailed as if he'd been shot by an arrow.

'Legolas, you need to show your mother what a big elf you are or else she will worry whilst she is away.' Thranduil wiped at the tears and tried to calm him down. It was the first time she would be gone and Thranduil understood how this would make Legolas sad but surely this was too much drama for one little elf. 'Why all this fuss?'

Legolas sniffled loudly before answering quietly, 'What if she does not come back?' It was a heartbreaking question and he couldn't help but hug Legolas a little tighter.

'I will be back before you know it!' She told him quickly, 'I have guards going with me and they will not let anything bad happen. I will be very safe and I will come back...I promise, Legolas.' He looked at his mother with watery eyes and shook his head, 'Why “no”? What makes you think I will not come back?' She looked at the king and they silently agreed to take their child into a more private room – it wouldn't do to have a small prince's tantrum made public.   
Legolas sat on her lap, both arms wrapped around her as far as they would go and Thranduil stroked his back soothingly as hiccups began. 'Legolas...what is wrong?'

He mumbled something into her chest and she had to push him away a little to understand, 'Tauriel's father went away and he did not come back.' Both parents sighed at the answer. Tauriel was a little younger than their son but they played together, mostly when the Captain of the Guard – Tauriel's father – made unofficial visits to the royal wing. He had left mere months ago on patrol and poor weather had endangered his route; he never made it home. 'Tauriel said her father promised to come home...and he did not.'

'The Captain of the Guard had a very dangerous job, Legolas, it is very sad what happened but I am going to return.' It took the best part of an hour for both of them to calm and reassure the elfling, when he finally seemed to accept it the queen was on her way and both Legolas and Thranduil were left to wonder after her.

Legolas spent much time with his father, barely leaving his side and as much as the king loved the attention – he was going a little mad with an elfling hanging, sitting or attached to him in some way. So after less than a month since his wife left, Thranduil threw his work to the side – literally – and took his son outside, hoping the fresh air would soothe both of them. 'Where are we going?'

'The clearing, I will read you the letter your mother sent, she wrote it from Rivendell and may have mentioned you,' Legolas grinned at that and there was a little bounce in his step as they made there way to the clearing, 'Then maybe I will tell you a story.'

'I do not want a story.' He said quickly, he took his father's hand and looked up hopefully, 'Can you teach me how to use a bow?'

Thranduil's eyebrows rose and he regarded Legolas with more than a little surprise. Most bows were longer than Legolas was tall and he was far too young to even consider picking up weapon – he'd climbed his first tree not three months earlier. 'I promise I will teach you when you are old enough – ah!' He stopped his son before he could argue and then continued, 'No elfling is allowed to learn until they are the right age, even the prince. I was not allowed when I was your age either,' he then asked the obvious question, 'Why?'

Legolas didn't hesitate a second, 'I want to go hunting with you and be the best archer in all of the kingdoms.' and then he did what he often did and changed the subject completely, throwing the king off and confounding him, 'Can I have a little brother instead?'

'...No.'

They spent the rest of the day together outside, the king let Legolas stay out to watch the stars for a little while before leading him home for dinner and then foolishly deciding to bathe the elfling himself. He was soaked by the end of the bath and then had to sit to read his son a story until he'd fallen asleep. He then returned to his work from earlier, which Galion had collected up off the floor and returned to his desk, they kept him busy well into the night and he often glanced behind him to look at an empty chair. His Nauglamir would usually be sat there with a book in hand, it was odd to find her missing; at least she would not force him away from work to sleep.   
Many hours later a quiet knock came on his door, assuming it was a maid with his earlier request he called for them to enter. The door opened and shut gently, a whisper of sound, suspiciously small and shoeless made him pause in his writing and turn.

His son stood in the middle of the room, his golden hair in disarray and his eyes tired, he stood disturbingly still other than the wringing of his hands, 'You should be in bed.' 

Legolas nodded slowly, he knew he should be sleeping but needed to be with someone, 'I had a night terror...' Thranduil got out of his chair and collected his elfling, bringing him to his own bed and tucking him into the middle of it. It had been a very long time since Legolas had slept in his parent's bed but he still seemed to vanish in the vastness of it. Thranduil laid beside his son, propping his head up on his hand and asked about this night terror. Legolas fidgeted for a moment before opening his mouth, 'I was in the wood but I did not know where, it was dark and there were strange noises, like skittering, in the trees. I heard mother's voice and I tried to find her but it was really dark and then I saw a really big fortress. It was broken though but on a hill where everyone could see it.' He paused when someone else knocked on the door and his father went to the other room before returning with a goblet, which he set aside and returned to the bed.

'The noise in the trees got louder,' Legolas continued, 'When I looked up there was a spider. It was very large...not like the ones that sneak into my shoes sometimes – bigger! Big enough to wear my shoes... They lived in a big web and in the middle I saw mother all wrapped up and then their was drumming coming from the broken fortress and I wanted to see what it was but the spider fell on me and I woke up...'

Thranduil nodded sagely, the dream disturbed him if he was honest. The place – the broken fortress – could only be Dol Guldur, a place Legolas had never seen but must have heard about recently and the giant spiders...they had not been in the wood for over a millennia. Something Legolas had never seen or to Thranduil's knowledge been told about. It was too accurate a description to be all the elfling's imagination. 'There are no spiders that will steal your shoes, Legolas.' The little one smiled at that, 'No fortress for hundreds of miles and your mother is tucked up safe and warm in a bed in Lord Elrond's care. Nothing bad is going to happen but I will let you sleep here tonight just in case your dream comes back.' He reached for his goblet and took a sip of wine, he could finish his work in the morning and send Legolas to play with the other children. It would do the child good to spend time with others his age, instead of holding onto him and wondering after his mother, 'Sleep now, it is late.'

'Father?'

'Hmm?' 

'Can I try some?' he was eyeing Thranduil's wine curiously.

The king thought about it for a moment, his queen would surely destroy his very being for giving their son wine but if it was only a little... He gave his son quite a serious look, 'Just a sip and if you ever tell your mother – I will shave your head, feed you worms and lock you in the dungeon...with everyone's dirty clothes. Forever.'

-

His wife arrived home exactly when she said she would and Legolas was beyond excited. Thranduil let the little elf run to his mother and waited patiently whilst Legolas chatted away to her and hugged her tightly, dragging her away to show her something he had made for her. She sent him a sympathetic look and she conveyed to him that they would be reunited soon. For now he had to be content with watching the two he loved most interact, Legolas could hold her attention easily and didn't complain once as she hugged and kissed him into a giggling mess, 'I missed you very much and I have gifts for you – providing you were good for your father.'

'I was good!' He said quickly, bouncing on the balls of his feet and recounting everything he'd done in the three months she was gone. Lord Elrond had been kind enough to send gifts with his wife for the elfling and it wasn't long before the tiny blonde ran off in search of his friends to show them his presents. His wife shook her head fondly as she found herself left alone with her husband.

'He waited for you to return all morning and a few toys have distracted him so thoroughly.' He took her hand and kissed the backs of her fingers, grateful she was by his side again. 'Every hour from you was agony, my Nauglamir,' he pulled her gently into and embrace and kissed her nose, 'I missed you and I may never let you leave again.' She laughed at his playful threat and rested her head against his chest, she had missed him too and had plans to make up for it.   
Pulling away she led him away from the more public area of their rooms and towards their own, she closed the door, which everyone knew meant to stay away, 'What are you planning?'

'I am a little dusty from the road and I thought you could help me get clean,' She glanced over her left shoulder to the pool that dominated much of this room, it was naturally heated, coming from an unknown spring deep in the caves that made their home – it made a pretty decoration but was very efficient in heating the room. 'I have always wanted use this pool...want to join me?'

Thranduil smiled at her devious expression and when she sat by the pool to unlace her shoes, he was in front of her quickly, shooing her hands away and carefully slipping one soft, leather shoe off. 'You are a terrible influence and I should not encourage it,' He brought her foot up to his flips and kissed her ankle, she couldn't help but giggle childishly as she lost balance and fell onto her back – her hair falling into the water and soaking her shoulder when she sat up on her elbows. The king took her other shoe off and again kissed her ankle, this time he didn't stop there, instead he continued to rain gentle kisses along the length of her leg and nipped her knee purely to hear her gasp. 'I like your ideas too much to discourage you.'

A knock interrupted them and the king practically growled, knowing it had to be important he got up and headed up the stairs to the door. The queen stifled a laugh, feeling sorry for the poor elf who had unknowingly disturbed them. She stood and easily rid herself of her travel clothes, throwing them to the side and quietly slipping into the water. The pool was only deep enough to lap at her waist, it was warm and she couldn't help but be surprised at the softness of the water, she lowered herself until her shoulders were covered and she wondered if the softness was something to do with the spring and rock. 'What has your attention, mel nin?' She jumped slightly at his voice and Thranduil didn’t know whether to be amused or worried at her lack of concentration, was she perhaps tired from the journey home?

She looked up to give him an answer, her mouth went dry instead – he was disrobing and she couldn't help but stare. Of course she had seen him without his clothing but she never got tired of it, he was made of lean muscle covered in smooth skin, the occasional scar marred his chest and arms but didn’t detract from him in the slightest, even the ancient burns from his left shoulder to his hip fascinated her delightfully.  
The king entered the pool and slowly made his way over to her, he watched her as she stood back up covering her breasts with her left arm and she gently ghosted her right hand over his skin – teasing him. 'You have my attention always, my king.'

Thranduil leant down and kissed her, he was tempted to ravish her quickly and thoroughly but that would never be enough, he had missed her of course but that was all the more reason to take his time with her. He planted softer kisses to her mouth before trailing down to her neck and laying gentle, open mouthed kisses over the skin he found with his tongue and teeth. Relishing the tiny whimper that escaped her as his hands slid down her shoulders and arms, he slowly removed her arm from across her chest and now that she couldn’t hide from him any more her body flushed under his gaze before he returned his attention to her throat, 'Promise you will never stop blushing for me.'

'Only if you give me reasons to do so,' the queen wriggled against his hold as he dragged his tongue across her skin; the wet muscle circled her right nipple lazily and no matter how much she moved he wouldn’t allow himself to touch the stiff, aching peak, his fingers mimicked his tongue’s movement on her other breast and he soon had her whining and fidgeting against his hold. The elleth was about to open her mouth and complain at his teasing but the suddenness of his warm mouth enveloping her breast forced her to moan instead as his teeth scraped over the sensitive nub and his tongue followed immediately after to soothe the sting. 

He released her from his mouth and sent a devious smirk up to her as his hand continued to massage and roll the globe trapped in his right hand, 'Did you wish to speak?' he asked innocently.

She glared down at him and after a few calming breaths she answered, 'I will make you pay for this.'

'Noted,' Thranduil said with a smug grin, he straightened up as he slid his hand along her side, below the waters surface and held her hip, stroking the soft skin with his thumb. 'I look forward to your revenge but for now I would like to welcome you home.' she snaked one of her hands around his neck and brought his head down to kiss her, the other hand dragged down over his ribs hard enough to make him shiver, it made him push back against her tongue and deepen the kiss. Her hand slipped below the water and all of a sudden Thranduil's hands tightened on her hips and his teeth caught her tongue, she squealed and pulled away, the little pink muscle sticking out ever so slightly as she ran a finger over it.

'Ouch...' she pouted slightly at him and waited for his own look of surprise to dissipate.

'Apologies...but I did not expect you to...' His voice was slightly strained and breathless, glancing downwards was all she needed to understand. Beneath the water she had her hand wrapped firmly around his hard length and she smiled gleefully as she gave a gentle tug to the organ causing him to moan. The queen teasingly rubbed along his shaft, concentrating on the feel at first, it was like the hardest steel sheathed in soft velvet and she easily forgot that he was attached to it as she let her fingers explore further. Thranduil could only bury his face into her neck and shoulder, she knew his body almost better than he knew it himself and she liked to remind him every now and then.

bringing her other hand into play she let her fingers dance over his tip, her thumb brushing against his slit caused him to scrape his teeth roughly over her shoulder, the queen gasped and her gentle stroke ended in a twist that had a strangled moan tearing from the elf's throat. He reached for her hands and guided them back up to his shoulders as he licked the mark he'd left on her, 'It has been a little while since we were last together.'

He lifted her onto his waist and she wrapped her legs around him, 'We have had a tiny, golden haired imp distracting us...I plan to enjoy his absence with my beloved wife.' He carried her over to the side of the pool, 'Now, show me your tongue.' She poked out her tongue obediently and he made a show of checking for damage, she was sat so that for once her head was higher than his, not wanting to miss the opportunity she leant down and ran the little appendage across his bottom lip.

'You should kiss it better – you did bite it after all.' Hiding a smirk, Thranduil obliged her by sucking her tongue for a moment before tugging her head down against his mouth; once she settled into the kiss he rubbed along the soft skin of her thighs and spread them open. Her little mewling noises encouraged him further and his index finger ran over her damp skin until he found her opening, his Nauglamir gasped into his mouth and was rewarded by two fingers slowly sinking into her. She tore her mouth from his as she pulled in a deep gulp of air and moaned unabashedly – It had been so long. 'Valar! Thranduil please...' Instead of giving her more, like she wanted, he pulled his fingers away and rested his hand back on her thigh.

Thranduil urged her to shift further back, spreading her knees apart and revelling in her muffled cry at the first hard stroke of his tongue against her. His grip on her thighs was bruising but it was all he could do to keep her from snapping them shut on his head as she writhed and moaned every time his tongue pushed into her or lingered over and around her aching bud, he had barely even begun when she cried out and tensed almost violently. He was a little more than proud of himself as she laid there on the cold, tiled floor, gasping for air and whining as he kissed her hips and stomach.

He helped her boneless body to sit up and pulled her into the water with him, holding her to his chest as she recovered, she trembled in his arms and he took his time in slowly rubbing his hands up and down her body in firm, soothing strokes. Elves were not known to show their love as physically as the race of men, they could let their partners know the depth of their love with eyes alone. Their lovemaking was not so often that the intense pleasure of it ever became less than that – Thranduil took secret joy in her vulnerability afterwards.   
'Thranduil, I need you...' She whispered against his throat, stepping closer so that he could lift her to him and they both moaned as their bodies joined. She would be lying if she said it didn't ache and he knew her body well enough to pause and let her adjust, letting himself regain some of his composure.

At her nod, he rolled his hips into her and her breath hitched each time he did it, she trapped her bottom lip between her teeth and he instinctively covered her mouth with his. Their mouths barely parted as they rocked against each other leisurely, nothing else existed whilst they were together and Thranduil's only concern was to her every moan, gasp and mewl until they were both satisfied. They stayed in the pool for what felt like hours before moving to their bedroom and Thranduil brushed her hair as she recounted her time in Rivendell. She asked after Legolas and he told her about the elfling's exploits whilst she was away, she voiced her concern when he told her of Legolas's dream and he quickly calmed her worries. 

-

Thranduil stood in the darkness of the Greenwood, his sword was drawn and he carefully inspected his surroundings – his enemy was here, somewhere. His personal guards had been left behind and he was deeper in the wilds than was usual. He was silent on his feet as he stalked through the trees, glancing up every now and then to check for possible ambushes. He strained to separate the sounds of the wood from a person's steps – he'd already threatened two rabbits and a mouse after thinking them his stalker.   
His entire body stiffened and he turned so suddenly on his heel that his attacker in the dark was startled and thrown easily against the trunk of a tree; a sword tip pressed against their neck. 'Your breath alerted me – if you must know.' He tilted his head at his captive and regarded them with a smug sort of smile.

'That was not my breath.' Said the other, 'That was my arrow – if you must know.'

The king sheathed his sword and walked the short distance to where an arrow sat lodged in a tree, strands of silvery yellow hair were evidence of how close the elf had been to injury, 'Very good, Legolas. Though it was a little close, do you not think?' Legolas shrugged, he knew he wouldn't have injured his father and he also knew that his father knew that too, 'That is enough for tonight.'

'I would like your answer.' Legolas said, not moving from his spot and pinning the king with a hard stare. Thranduil regarded his son seriously. The tiny elfling was long gone, grown up many centuries ago, He was tall as a young tree, lithe, immensely strong, able swiftly to draw a great war-bow and shoot down the smallest of targets. His hair was no longer barely brushing his shoulders, it now hung just past his shoulder braids and Thranduil had not needed to braid his son's hair for a long time, Legolas was more than capable nowadays. They were still close, though Legolas no longer lingered by Thranduil, no longer needed stories or a hand to hold. Instead father and son would hunt together, drink together and take it in turns to get the other in trouble with the queen – she still sided with her beloved son.

Sometimes the king forgot he was no longer dealing with an excitable child who needed protection but he was learning. 'I will allow you to join the border patrols.' He saw the bright grin on his son's face and sighed unhappily. Legolas had been badgering him for years to join the guard and Thranduil had decided to test his son, this is how they ended up in the woods in the dead of night; Legolas had to prove he could defend himself. Thranduil had won rightly...though Legolas had proved his skill. It killed him to allow this but his son was a grown elf. 'There is one condition.'

Legolas's head fell back in frustration, he looked to the stars for help and saw none, 'Father!'

'Oh hush. The condition is very easy – you have to tell your mother that you are joining the guard.' The king began the walk home and it took only seconds for Legolas to catch up and beg for mercy. His Nauglamir had never truly accepted that her son no longer needed her and both of them knew she would dislike the news greatly. The prince asked if Thranduil really thought he would survive telling his mother, knowing her temper could be dangerous – Thranduil soothed him, 'Your mother will not meet you with anger, Legolas.' The prince sighed in relief and the king stopped to place a gentle hand on his shoulder, 'You will not see her wrath – Tears. Her heart will be crushed and she will most likely cry for days.'

'...Please. Can we just not tell her?' Thranduil was off again and Legolas was tempted to shoot his father in the arse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really sad the next chapter is the last...For real this time!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So disappointed in myself.

Chapter 6

 

The Queen had spent most of the evening staring at her husband. Thranduil had received a message earlier that day and he had looked like an excited elfling – there was still a strong presence of glee in his pale, blue eyes. They were sparkling for Valars sake!  
She had tried enquiring about his good mood and he had simply smiled, tilting his head in that ridiculously endearing way of his and telling her it was none of her business. She was tempted to throw him into a cell and poke at him until he told her. She hated secrets. Especially secrets that had Thranduil throwing conspirator y looks at Legolas, who would then grin and practically bounce on the balls of his feet. Though that made her smile fondly – Legolas may now be a fully grown elf but she would always see him as her baby.

'I know you are up to something.' She told the king as he attempted to walk past her in one of the halls, he feigned a shocked expression and insisted he had no idea what she meant. 'You will feel better if you share with me.'

At this he laughed, 'You will feel better, mell nin, I have no wish to share.'

She hung onto his arm childishly and knocked him with her hip, 'Please, Thranduil, I am fading with curiosity! I am so faded with curiosity that I am unable to walk another step – or let go of your arm.' The queen stopped and tightened her grip on him. Thranduil could have pulled her along, her strength only holding him still because he allowed it, 'What will you do now?'

He seemed to think about it for a mere second before she found her feet leaving the ground as he picked her up, 'I will have to carry you around until you behave like a proper queen again – Although I have been waiting for that since the day you became my wife...'  
Ignoring his little jab at her never behaving as proper as she should, the elleth fluttered her eyelashes at him, 'Or you could tell me your secret.' 

'Then I would not be able to have you in my arms, if I tell you then you will want to escape.' He was walking them toward the outside garden, recently built around the waterfall leading to long lake, the area was perfect for relaxing in – until the empty barrels would whiz past. 'It is a surprise for you, my wife, and that is all I will tell you.' Thranduil sat on a stone bench with her on his lap and she reached up to take his crown from his head, pulling a wilted flower from it before putting it back in place. They enjoyed the sun silently, she twisted his hair in her fingers whilst he carefully unbraided hers; something that he knew would annoy her when she realised. 'I will be visiting Erebor when the moon fills again.' he said absently, 'To see this Arkenstone and to complete some business.'

'How long will we be away? Is this where my gift is?' She asked, slapping his chest when she realised he had undone the braids in her hair – they had made up a flower pattern but she knew they were wavy tangles now, 'Such a child.'

Thranduil kissed her head in apology, 'I will be away for three days. I would like you to stay here and keep my throne warm...what gift?'

'You know what gift and Legolas cou - '

'Legolas does not have the experience you do.' She sighed loudly at his answer and he smiled, 'So dramatic.'

'I hate us being apart.' She said quietly and removed herself from his lap to make her way to the balcony edge, 'The lonely mountain is right there,' Gesturing to the mountain in the distance she pouted at him – in foolish hope he would give in. 'A days journey at most, we could be back here if something terrible were to happen and Legolas could accompany...us.' The queen's sentence died quickly in her throat as she noticed something strange about the wood in the distance. A cluster of trees were discoloured, brown and black, a complete contrast to the vibrant leaves of the trees surrounding them. 'Thranduil.' 

He got up curiously, her wary tone let him realise she was no longer playing with him, once by her side he could see what had her so concerned, 'Strange.' He closed his eyes and became very still, almost statue like to anyone who cared to look. She knew he had left his body, roaming the wood as a white stag to investigate the occurrence – not everyone knew of this talent and she cared to keep it that way. Whilst he sought the possible problem, she watched the doors leading to them and as time slipped past she began worry; what was taking so long?   
And then Thranduil opened his eyes, taking in her worried expression and smiling reassuringly, 'A disease, I will send someone out to make sure it does not spread.' He placed his hands on her cheeks, 'All will be well, mell nin.'

She shook her head, all playfulness from earlier fled, 'Something does not feel right, Thranduil. Send someone out now and delay your journey until it is resolved.'

His eyebrows rose. She did not often give him orders and he wondered if it was because he would not allow her to go to Erebor with him, 'I have promised to attend the mountain. I can hardly postpone it for a few rotten trees.' His earlier mischievousness returned as he thought about the true reason he was going to the Dwarves, 'You will be happy that I went when you see - '

'No.' She snapped, pushing away from him to return to the edge, glaring out at the cluster of trees, 'Something is wrong. I know it. I do not want you to go.' The queen turned her gaze on him, begging him with her eyes, 'Promise me you will not go.'

-

Thranduil would give her no such promise and what had started as a day full of fun and joy had plummeted into dark glares and watery eyes. To all that witnessed the couple's fight found they had to move away in discomfort, it was an odd thing to see and no one quite knew what to do. Legolas followed his mother through the halls, stopping her and becoming distressed at the unshed tears, he pulled her into an embrace and asked her what was wrong. She told him of her fear and he foolishly promised to talk to his father.  
He found the king in his study and the young prince felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle. Thranduil listened to his son's words for all of ten seconds before he forced him to drop the subject. Reminding him of the reason for the trip and no matter how upset she was with him right now – she would be ecstatic upon his return. 

On the one hand, his mother was terrified for Thranduil to leave and on the other, his father was bringing back a precious gift. Legolas was unsure of what to do, even when Thranduil and six guards left, he was unsure. He kept his mother company, providing distraction and reminding her that she chose to marry 'that pompous, orc faced elf' in the first place. He had never seen her angry before and it amused him as much as it made his stomach twist in discomfort.

The day Thranduil was to return she insisted on meeting him, she had become quite difficult to calm as the days passed and she spent many, long hours staring out at the trees. She left with him and a few others into the wood and Legolas had thought nothing of it when his mother asked that they take a look at the discoloured trees further up the trail. He regretted it. He wished with everything he had that he had ignored her request and stayed on the path.  
He also wished that his father hadn't been a day late and hadn't returned in such a foul mood.  
'Will you just listen!' Legolas snapped angrily. He was not going to chase his father around until he calmed – there wasn't time. 'Forget your foolish dwarves for a moment and listen to me.' Thranduil turned on his heel slowly, his previous anger was starting to simmer to rage and he would not be spoken to by his child this way. He would not be yelled at from across the hall by anyone, especially by Legolas and would have said as much if not for the desperately sad blue eyes he was faced with. Thranduil relaxed his hands from their tight fists and the angry tremor in his body slowed to something more of fear than anger. 'There were spiders in the wood.' Legolas said quietly, 'Giant ones. They have been destroyed but not before they claimed the life of one and harmed another...'

The king approached his son slowly, he took notice of how truly distressed his son was, he looked tired and scared and he was most definitely sorrowful. That alone told him more than words ever would, '...No.' Legolas nodded once and it took everything Thranduil had to not throw the other elf aside and run to his wife's side. 'W-what happened.'

'We expected you back yesterday and we wanted to meet you...Mother was worried.' Thranduil's heart clenched and he couldn't keep the painful wince from his face. His Nauglamir hadn't wanted him to go, she had asked him to stay, she had warned him that something was not right in the wood and she had wanted him to stay – why didn't he listen?  
' - He was taken into the trees and whilst our backs were turned,' The king had only half been listening but now that he was he couldn't listen any more. He stopped Legolas and asked him to lead the way.

He expected her to be in their room and when Legolas passed it he knew she was in the healing rooms, he knew this meant she was not well enough to leave them. The prince paused by the doorway and Thranduil passed him to get to the still figure in the bed, she was almost as white as the sheets and the once invisible veins beneath her skin were black – almost as if someone has spilled ink into them. 'Tell me you can cure this.' 

The healer, who had stepped away to allow room for him, jumped slightly at the suddenness of the question, it wasn't often Thranduil was so harsh. 'The spider that bit the queen was not as poisonous as we first suspected, the bite itself has caused some sort of infection that we are struggling to remove.' The healer took a step back at the force of the king's glare. 'She will not awake despite our efforts but there seems to be no other effects.'

'I would say her inability to wake is effect enough!' He hissed at the healer, 'Find a cure! I do not care if you must send a message to every other healer on Arda – Find a cure.' The other nodded quickly, recoiling from the blind rage and fleeing the room as quickly as they could. Thranduil then turned on his son, 'How could you let this happen?'

Legolas's eyes widened and he felt like he'd just been struck, 'Me?' he said incredulously, 'Last time I checked, mother was allowed wherever she pleased – who am I to stop her?'

'She should have been protected!' His shout was shocking as was his anger towards the prince

'You should have been here!' Legolas yelled back. 'If you had been here then there would have been no reason to venture out! You were late! You ignored her warning and for what?! Some ridiculous gem that caused the downfall of some old kingdom! You were not here. How dare you try to place this on my shoulders!' 

Thranduil's furious expression had melted into one of despair. Everything Legolas had said was true and he had absolutely no right to blame anyone but himself. He reached out for Legolas and the young prince went to him willingly, letting Thranduil pull him into a firm embrace and Legolas was grateful he could let himself go. The king held his son even as the elf sagged slightly and he asked for forgiveness as he rubbed his cheek against the golden hair under his chin. 'I did not mean it.' he muttered sadly, 'I should have been here.'  
They both sat by the Queens side, watching her for any sign of wakefulness but all they could see was the slow rise and fall of her chest and the slow spread of black in her veins.

-

Days passed and Legolas found himself alone with his mother. Thranduil had left the evening before and Legolas could only feel relief that the thick air of anger and grief was gone. He could understand the deep sadness, he felt it too but the anger was unwelcome, Thranduil had told him of how the dwarves kept him waiting and then refused to honour their deal. It was abhorrent and Legolas felt just as outraged but the way his father was taking it seemed uncharacteristically excessive – Thranduil was blaming this solely on the dwarves when it was spiders that had caused the harm. But then...the spiders had seemed to have come from Dol Guldor. The dwarves were the ones that had disturbed such an evil place – perhaps it was their fault.

It wasn't until that evening that news reached the prince that his father was gathering the army and planned to march on Erebor. He couldn't find it in himself to tell his father that it was foolish because hate for the dwarves of Erebor had clouded his heart.

Two more days passed by in agonising slowness, healers worked tirelessly with everything they could think of to cure the queen and when, by some fluke or miracle, her eyes finally opened, Legolas couldn't keep his tears in check. The young elf kissed her hands, her wrists – anything he could to let her know that he was glad she was back with him, 'We were all frightened you would never wake,' he sobbed into her hands.

She gave him a weak smile and curled her fingers around his, her body feeling too frail to do much else, 'Th-anduil?' Legolas quickly picked up a glass of water, her voice was raspy and he worried how coughing would affect her. Helping her sit up to sip the water, Legolas tried to think of how to answer her when she said Thranduil's name again – what could he say? Father has gone to exact revenge for something that could have been prevented if he ha listened to you in the first place?

'He is not here, mother.' He had expected her to be unhappy with his words but he had never expected her to weep. Legolas held her to him whilst the elleth sobbed and cried out angrily, the queen wanted her husband and was demanding that someone fetch him immediately between broken sobs. The young prince had never felt so useless in his life.

The poison from the spider had weakened her, the blackness in her veins would not recede, her skin remained pale and sickly but the thing that disturbed them the most was that every hour that passed, the queen's hair darkened from golden yellow to an inky black. By the time Thranduil returned with his army a few more days later not a single golden hair could be seen and she locked herself away.   
Thranduil found his son sat outside the doors to his room, the elf despondent and miserable, barely reacting to the news of Smaug the dragon taking the mountain. 'Then the Valar have punished them justly.' He looked up at his father, holding his hand out for assistance, which the king took gently to haul the younger up, 'Forgive me. I have let you shoulder the weight of this on your own for too long – go, rest your body and heart.' Thranduil pressed his lips to his son's forehead, 'I will mend this.'

'I do not think you can...' he said quietly.

-

The king of the Woodland Realm had never begged in his entire life, he had faced dragons, orcs, dark lords and not once had he ever gotten on his knees or begged for something. Yet he was doing just that, outside his own room, in his own palace, to his own wife. She would not answer his calls or even his pleas, she had not even come out for Legolas and he had done nothing to earn her anger – she would not come out for the one she loved above all others. His pleas turned to orders and eventually lead to him breaking the door down by force, he cursed the sturdy wood with every useless impact and when at last it splintered apart, wood cutting into his shoulder, he stumbled into his room – their room. 'Mel nin,' he saw her sat in a chair he often favoured, her back was to him but the king could see she had drawn her knees to her chest and she had draped one of his robes over herself. 'I should not have left...I should have done as you asked, melnin, please do not punish me for loving you.'  
He crossed the room slowly, almost cautiously he knelt before her and took in her pale face, her usual bright eyes were closed. He saw the ghostly skin, the faded black veins that spread like ivy vines and at last his eyes were drawn to the single lank lock of hair that had escaped into view. He reached for the robe carefully and pushed it back until it slipped to her shoulders, Thranduil could not keep his tears from falling as he stared at the black hair, 'Do not hide – you are still my beautiful Naugla -'

The sound of her palm striking his his face cut through the room like a knife, his body hardly moved from the slap and he knew that it should have hurt him more physically. She stood up quickly, hand raised to hit him again but her legs faltered in their ability to hold her and her knees buckled. Thranduil caught her before she hit the floor but she was far from grateful, 'Do not dare call me that!' she hissed angrily, 'Not after all the pain that useless necklace has caused – I wanted you. Not gems or treasure.'

'You have me.' he held her body closer to himself, 'I only wished to...I once promised to give you everything. I only wished to see you happy.' 

'You make me happy. Have I ever asked for more than you?'

His eyes widened at her admission, he felt ashamed that he had let lust for gems cloud his mind, that she had always been content by his side. 'Then I will never leave your side again.'

-

Bilbo Baggins scratched his head in thought as he stared up at the keys to the dungeon cells, if he were but a bit taller than he could reach them. He looked back at the sleeping guards and looked around the room for something he could stand on, he was so absorbed in this that the hobbit failed to realise he was not alone. 'You are not a skilled thief.' The hobbit jumped out of his skin and pulled sting from his belt, holding it up to protect himself. 

He looked into the bright blue eyes of an elleth with pitch black hair, carefully braided with autumn flowers, the hobbit was enchanted by her beauty, her smile making him lower sting hesitantly, 'Well, I can't just let them sit in the dungeon...I’m not sure you know how to look after Dwarves properly.' he gave her a little half smile, hoping his humour wasn't wasted. He had learned from Rivendell that all elves were lovely but he had also noticed small differences in status – This elleth's dress was finer than any he'd seen anywhere else, except for perhaps the king, he then noticed the small crown in her hair, 'Maybe I could ask you for a royal pardon?'

'Just get those dwarves out of here' she smiled and handed him the keys, 'And do not wake the dragon.'

Le Fin

 

((I HATE THIS CHAPTER SO BAD!!! HATE IT... TOOK FOREVER TO WRITE OUT AND I'M SORRY IT'S NOT BETTER. THANK YOU FOR READING BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!))


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